On Fire
by mamaduck
Summary: The trio's first year at Hogwarts: selected scenes of what should have/could have happened if Harry, Hermione, and Ron had been held accountable for their actions. Discipline fic - contains spanking of children. No romance, no slash.
1. Chapter 1 Trolls and Flames

1On Fire Chapter 1 "On Fire"

Author's Note: There are a few changes from the events of canon in my little ficlet. They will be obvious to most but hopefully won't detract from my story too much: In this fic, McGonagall is late coming to the Quiddich match rather than being in the stands from the start. As well, Hermione goes under the stands to set Snape's robes on fire, and she doesn't scoop the flames back into a jar. 

" A fully grown mountain troll? Minerva, you must have lost ten years off your life when you saw the three of them standing there!", Pomona Sprout exclaimed.

It was the afternoon following Halloween and several of Hogwarts' staff were gathered in the staff room, as usual, for their daily wind-down after classes.

" More like twenty years, Pomona", Minerva McGonagall poured her tea with a sigh and sank gratefully into one of the overstuffed chairs populating the room.

" I do hope you punished them severely", Pomona stated, 

"after all, this _is_ an enormous transgression with which to begin their Hogwarts career."

Settled in, with her favourite blend of Oolong, the Herbology professor stretched her short legs out to the ottoman in front of her and sighed in satisfaction.

"Of course, I did", Minerva said, primly, sipping her tea, "I deducted points straight away."

At this remark a snort issued from the depths of a wingback chair near the fireplace.

"Have you something to say, Severus, asked Minerva, her eyebrows lifted,"By all means, don't hold back."

The acerbic tone of the witch's voice caused Pomona to grin slightly and Filius Flitwick to look up from perusing his copy of the Daily Prophet.

Severus Snape lifted his quill from the homework parchment he was slashing great red lines through and tapped his lips in a mock-thoughtful manner. Although he'd never admit it, he enjoyed his verbal sparring with Hogwarts' Transfiguration Professor and wanted to use this opportunity to the best of his advantage. 

"And how many points did you take, Minerva?" he questioned dryly, knowing full well just how many points had been deducted following the Troll Incident of the previous evening.

"Sufficient, Severus. I am well aware that you view my discipline measures as lax, but as I've said before, if the students were from your house-

"They wouldn't be sitting so comfortably today." Snape interjected.

"-you could discipline them as you see fit, but I know my Gryffindors, and they don't need such harsh discipline."

Both Pomona and Filius were quietly sniggering by now, this being an age-old argument between the two Heads of House.

"Well," drawled Severus, pulling his lanky form up out of the chair and summoning his quill and parchments,

"we'll see just how well your punishment worked as a preventative measure against further mischief with the Boy-Who-Lived and his two now faithful Side Kicks. Perhaps you would like to enter a wager of sorts?"

He paused, slanting his intense black gaze toward Minerva.

"I'm willing to bet those three miscreants will be up to their ears in trouble before the passing of a fortnight." 

Minerva pursed her lips in a disapproving manner and sniffed.

"You know I only partake in wagers having to do with the outcome of the House Cup." 

At that, Severus laughed outright and swept out of the room, his rumbling chuckle trailing behind him and mixing with the laughter of the remaining staff.

As Harry Potter's broom bucked and twisted in some bizarre attempt to unseat him metres above the quiddich pitch, Professor Minerva McGonagall was just arriving onto the field. She hurried toward the Staff section, intent on finding out what was happening that had everyone on their feet and looking high above the pitch. 

Quickly turning the corner, she was just in time to see Hermione Granger slip under the stands, a determined look on her young face. Minerva watched, astounded, as Hermione crept up and used her wand to ignite the hems of Professor Snape's robes, nodded to herself, and turned away.

Only to be brought up short at the sight of her stern Professor staring at her, arms crossed and her mouth set in a firm line.

Overhead, the ensuing commotion as the flames were noticed served to drown out the voice but Hermione could clearly see Professor McGonagall's lips say 

"Hermione Granger! Come with me!"

"Just what do you THINK you were doing, Miss Granger? Setting FIRE to your professor is classified as ASSAULT!. Such things are NOT taken lightly here at Hogwarts, I can assure you!"

"But Professor Snape was...well it looked like he was...He could have been...Someone was hexing Harry's broom Professor! And Professor Snape was staring right at him and his lips were moving like he was cursing the broom and I had to do something..."

Hermione's voice trailed off as her professor's face darkened.

"Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall took a deep (and calming) breath.

"Do you mean to tell me that you believe a trusted Professor of this school would deliberately harm a student?"

"Well", Hermione faltered, "He really doesn't like Harry..."

"And that is grounds to assume he's guilty of attacking a student?"

"Well", Hermione's voice was getting smaller and the eleven year old witch looked up at her stern professor through her eyelashes,

"He was looking at him without blinking...and he was moving his lips.."

"A prayer perhaps?" Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows,

"Or how about a counter curse- which may involve unbroken eye contact and an audible verbal chant?"

"Oh." Hermione whispered, chagrined.

"Oh, indeed" bit out the professor.

"And where was our esteemed Headmaster, undoubtedly The Most Powerful Wizard Of Our Time, whilst this supposed hexing was taking place? "

"In the staff seats, near Professor Snape..." mumbled Hermione.

"In. The. Staff. Seats. And you think Professor Dumbledore would not be able to recognize and prevent a dangerous situation, leaving it up to you, an untrained eleven year old witch, to save the day by setting fire to your professor?" McGonagall's voice was rising and her usually slight Scottish accent was becoming more pronounced.

Hermione said nothing at this point, recognizing that further comment would be unwise and unwelcome.

"I have _never_ been witness to such foolhardy actions from a first year student for decades! First the Troll, and now this!"

"Perhaps Professor Snape was correct in his assumptions that I was too lax with you.

"At any rate, I feel that he deserves to hear your explanation and your apology, Young Lady"

Professor McGonagall took her seat behind her desk and stared thoughtfully at Hermione for a few moments, the fingers of her right hand tapping the desk lightly.

Hermione was mortified, now that her actions were sinking in. Her mind raced with possible consequences, the first being expulsion.

"Please Professor McGonagall, don't expel me! I love Hogwarts! I just didn't stop to think! I'm really sorry and I'll never do it again!"

"I don't think expulsion is the answer Miss Granger."

Hermione sighed with relief and her legs trembled with the effort to keep her body upright.

"However, this is a very serious matter. I think I will let Professor Snape decide your punishment."

Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"But, but-"

"No buts, Miss Granger. You are in no position to argue with me. You will seek out Professor Snape in his office tonight. He keeps office hours Saturdays following the evening meal.

"Yes. You will seek out Professor Snape in his office. You will explain the events of this afternoon, in detail. 

"You will ask his forgiveness and submit to whatever punishment he decides upon. To be certain, I will send along a signed note, transferring my authority over to him in this matter."

As her professor took out a piece of parchment from a drawer and summoned a quill, Hermione thought the floor should just open up and swallow her. She didn't think she could stand to have her Head of House so upset with her. And Snape! _He'll kill me_... _I'll have detention for the rest of my life.._.

"I'm really sorry Professor!" Hermione's voice trembled and her eyes filled with tears.

"I'll never do anything like this again! Please don't send me to Professor Snape! He hates me!"

"Ridiculous, Miss Granger. Professor Snape may not like you, but he doesn't hate you, I'm certain. He simply does not appreciate the Gryffindor mindset. I have heard him comment on your prowess in potions often enough to know he doesn't hate you.

Hermione's mind boggled at the idea that_ Snape_ may have said something nice about her.

"Although, he _will_ be terribly upset, I expect. One does not react lightly to having a student set one's robes on fire."

Professor McGonagall conjured a drop of wax and sealed the note that she had been writing. She stood abruptly and strode around her desk to where Hermione stood, literally shaking in her shoes.

"Take this to Professor Snape and do _exactly _as I have said. If you do not, I will know and your consequences will be very grave indeed. Have I made myself clear?" 

"Yes, professor," the little girl whispered and reached out a trembling hand to take the note.

"I will expect much better behaviour in the future, Miss Granger. I would hate to see the Hogwarts career of such a promising young mind cut short due to careless acts of misbehaviour."

On Fire Chapter 2 Incineration

Six o'clock that evening found Hermione leaning against the wall of the dungeon corridor near the Potions Classroom. Her hands were trembling, she was sweating and felt like she would sick up the few bites of supper she had managed to choke down. She patted the cool stone wall behind her and tried to collect herself.

Harry and Ron had volunteered to walk her down, both praising her brave attempt at saving Harry and commiserating with her about the _unfairness_ of their Head of House in sending one of her poor lambs to slaughter in the dungeons. 

But Hermione wanted to do this alone. She didn't want either of her new friends to see her fear, or to be lurking near the office to overhear her getting yelled at. She _knew_ Professor Snape would yell. 

She could handle shouting, even though her parents were quiet people and never raised their voice to their only child. In fact, they hardly ever had any need to punish her in any way. If they did, a few words of reprimand were enough to reduce her to tears and promises to do better.

Taking a deep breath and summoning all her courage, Hermione purposely strode past the classroom door and paused at the next door down the dim corridor.

The large door was made of dark wood and had an ornate brass handle in the form of a snake. A yellowed parchment stuck to the door just above her head, announcing Snape's office hours in his cramped, distinctive scrawl.

Timidly, Hermione raised her hand and knocked softly on the door. _Perhaps he won't hear me...perhaps he's not here...perhaps he's been sucked away by aliens..._

"Enter." came the deep voice of her professor.

Gingerly, the girl pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The professor was sitting at his desk, the office surprisingly brightly lit with several candles placed around the room. His quill poised above parchment, he raised a brow and what looked like surprise flitted across his face.

"Miss Granger. To what do I owe this...intrusion?"

_O Mary, Mother of God, help me now in this my hour of need _...Her childhood catechism echoed in her brain..."Ummm"

"Eloquent as ever, Miss Granger. State your business or leave, I am a busy man" He tipped his head and stared at her appraisingly.

"I...um...I...I have something to confess" There, she'd said it and she definitely had his attention now.

Snape sat further upright in his chair. " What could an innocent young Gryffindor, like yourself, possibly have to confess to the Head of Slytherin House..?"

_I really hate the way he over-enunciates when he's being sarcastic_..."Well, you see, Sir, this afternoon..you know, when something happened to Harry's broom..."

"Go on." 

The words seemed to hang ominously in the thick dungeon air. Hermione was finding it hard to breathe.

"Well, I know it was wrong of me, and I'm really sorry, but you see, I was desperate, and it looked, well it looked to me like, like youwerehexingHarry'sbroom andsoIsnuckaroundand setfiretoyourrobes" The words tumbled out on top of one another and Hermione felt she would collapse with the effort.

Silence. Hermione kept her eyes resolutely glued to the floor, her heart beating a rapid staccato in her chest.

More silence. Hermione dared to take a quick peek up at her professor. He was sitting very still at his desk, except for the tiny muscle twitching at the corner of his eye.

Abruptly he cleared his throat. Hermione jumped.

"Let me attempt to clarify this...confession" His voice was quiet, but hard.

" You, in all your Gryffindor wisdom, rapidly assessed the situation when Mr Potter's broom began cavorting in an erratic manner, decided that the perpetrator was _me_, and _set__fire_ to my robes in an attempt to rectify the situation."

Hermione swallowed, and nodded, her face flushing under his intense scrutiny.

"I think Professor McGonagall should be involved in this scintillating discussion" 

Snape rose from his desk in one fluid movement, causing his student to step back quickly and stammer,

"She-she already knows! S-Sir."

Quailing inside but pushing herself, Hermione went on, breathing quickly.

"She saw me. Professor McGonagall, I mean. When I lit your robes on fire. Sir." Her cheeks burned.

"She took m-me to her office and said that I was to come down here and explain to you. And to-" Hermione's stomach threatened to hurl, "to ask for your forgiveness, and-"

At this point she was certain she was going to sick up. She could feel it, climbing up her esophagus with acidic fingers.

A glance at his stony face was like a splash of cold water and she was able to whisper,

"And to submit to whatever punishment you wish to give me."

Silence. Hermione looked everywhere but at her professor, waiting for the bomb to blow.

"Professor McGonagall said this?" His deep voice sounded mocking, disbelieving.

"She gave me this note for you." Hermione fumbled in her pocket and drew out the wrinkled note.

Snape reached out his hand but made no move toward her. Slowly, she inched forward and placed it in his open palm, the note a small splash of white on the calloused skin.

Scampering back to her place closer to the door, Hermione heard the parchment crinkle.

Silence. 

Sweat trickled down her back. Her camisole stuck to her skin under her blouse. _I'm__dead, I'm so dead, I'm dead, I want my mum...no I don't, she'd kill me.._.

"It seems you are capable of following instruction at least some of the time, Miss Granger."

The professor's voice shook Hermione out of her thoughts. She raised her eyes to meet his piercing gaze..

"What to do, what to do.." Snape stroked his jaw thoughtfully. Hermione could hear his fingers rasp over the evening stubble on his face. He held Hermione's attention with his eyes boring into hers.

" I have found, over the years, that suiting the punishment to the crime is often quite effective in deterring further delinquency."

_He's going to set me on fire? _

"However, as incinerating students is frowned upon," He paused and walked over to the corner of his office,

"I will have to resort to another method that will produce the same results, albeit in a limited area of the anatomy."

_What is he talking about? Anatomy? _Hermione's thoughts were racing.

Snape picked up a wooden armless chair and moved it into the centre of his office.

" I feel, Miss Granger, that the situation warrants a sound spanking."

Hermione was dumbfounded. _A spanking. A Spanking!_

"But Sir! Hogwarts doesn't allow corporal punishment! I've read _Hogwarts, A History _and it states-"

"I am quite aware of what it states, Miss Granger. However, the fact remains that Heads of House _do_ have the authority to discipline their students with physical punishments and," 

He held up a hand to silence her protest,

"Professor McGonagall has temporarily transferred her authority to me, to punish you as though you were a member of my own house, Merlin forbid," He added dryly.

"And since I feel this grievous offense against my person, causing extensive damage to my robes, merits a spanking, that is what you will receive."

Hermione's mind was spinning. Her dreaded potions professor, a powerful wizard and a very large man, was going to spank her? 

Professor Snape seated himself in the straight backed chair and began to roll up his right sleeve. The sight of him in his white shirt and black waistcoat, out of his teaching robes, was every bit as intimidating as when he was in full professorial regalia.

"To me, Miss Granger."

_I can't believe this is happening. This has to be a bad dream..I've never been spanked in my life...do wizards spank differently than non-magical people? _Hermione stood, frozen to the spot, her eyes wide and terrified.

"Now, Miss Granger."

Fortunately for Hermione, her naturally obedient manner kicked in and she moved forward, closer to her Professor.

Snape suddenly raised his wand and Hermione gasped. A muttered word and the door behind her locked and the air stirred. _A silencing charm?_

He tucked his wand back into his left sleeve and reached forward and grasped Hermione's arm.

Pulling the frightened girl to his right side, he released her arm and yanked her blouse and camisole out of the waistband of her skirt with a quick jerk. Before she could do more than blink, Hermione found herself drawn across her professor's knees, her face and feet dangling far from the floor.

Methodically, he lifted the hem of her skirt up onto her back with practiced ease. Her right arm was moved up to her lower back, her hand held loosely in his large cool fingers.

"Obviously you have never been punished in this manner, Miss Granger. That is unfortunate, as it may have prevented your mischievous, foolhardy nature from escalating to this point."

"There are rules in this endeavour. You may cry out and you may squirm, but you _may not _hit, kick, or bite me. You will answer any and all questions in a polite manner. You do _not_ want to violate these rules. Do you understand?"

Hermione was dying. Of embarrassment. She lay rigid over his thighs, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I understand. Sir."

"Very well. We will begin."

With that, Snape grasped the waistband of her yellow floral knickers and pulled them down to her knees.

As the cool air of the dungeon washed over her exposed bottom, Hermione thought this couldn't get any worse. Then his palm crashed onto her tender skin and all conscious thought fled her mind. _Owwww_

Smack..._aaahhh_...Smack...his hand covered most of her backside and seemed as hard as iron.

By the third smack Hermione was whimpering through her gritted teeth. Snape seemed intent on concentrating his attack on the area where her bottom met her thighs.

Spank...Hermione was starting to forget her mortification as her legs kicked out of their own accord...Smack..."oww"...Smack..."aahh"...his hand was moving higher now, focusing on the centre, the sting was getting more and more intense and Hermione writhed across his firm legs.

After six smarting spanks Snape paused in his assault to her seat, and rested his hand on her thighs. 

"Miss Granger, you are a foolish. Little. Girl." More spanks accompanied his last three words; hard, stinging smacks that made her body jerk in response and the tears flood from her eyes.

"You must learn to control. Your. Impulses." Spank, spank, spank.

Hermione was sobbing now, her entire bottom felt to be in flames.

"Are you prepared to change your behaviour for the better?"

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Y-yes, I am! Yes, Sir!" Hermione gulped the words out through her tears. Her nose was running and her bottom was throbbing.

" Let this be a reminder to you as to what happens to naughty little girls who consider themselves above the rules and act without thinking of the consequences."

With that stern comment Snape resumed the spanking, lifting his right leg to further expose the junction of bottom and thigh. Spank..spank...spank...spank...spank!

Hermione thought that if her bottom had been flaming before it was certainly an inferno now, consuming her, taking her breath away. 

She gave up and hung limply across her professors lap, crying like the sorry little girl she was.

It took her a few seconds to realize he had stopped, one heavy hand resting on her back, still pinning her right hand, and the other motionless on her legs.

Acute embarrassment returned and she struggled to get up. Immediately Professor Snape pulled up her knickers, released her right hand and stood her up beside him.

Hermione stood there, sobbing, trying to catch her breath, wiping at her face with her sleeve.

Wordlessly, Snape handed her a handkerchief and watched as she slowly composed herself.

"I..I'm really sorry Professor" her breath hitched.

"I'm certain you are."

Feeling completely chastened, Hermione struggled with her feelings.

"It was really wrong of me to set you on fire..." she knew what she wanted to ask but wasn't certain she was brave enough...

"You are forgiven, Miss Granger"

Hermione sagged with relief and without further thought threw herself into her professor's arms, her sobs renewed.

"There, there, Miss Granger" Professor Snape awkwardly patted her back.

"Wipe your tears, there you go" His matter-of-fact tone served to remind Hermione where she was and what she was doing and to whom, and she drew away; noting with some surprise that her greasy git of a teacher wasn't greasy close up, and he smelled faintly of aftershave or soap, reminiscent of her father.

Strong hands steadied her as she regained her footing, then they quickly and deftly tucked her blouse back into her skirt.

The little girl took a quick breath as the cotton fabric brushed against her bottom and her hand automatically reached back to rub the sting. She noticed her professor seemed to be hiding a smirk and waited for him to release some cutting or otherwise hurtful remark in regard to her discomfort.

To her continued surprise, the dark man said nothing. He rose and lifted the chair back to its former position.

"If there is nothing else to you wish to confess today, Miss Granger,"

Hermione's eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. The throb in her bottom was like a heartbeat and temporarily robbed her of speech.

"Then you may go."

Professor Snape returned to his seat behind the desk and picked up his quill as Hermione made her way to the door.

"Although...you may be assured that I will be watching you Miss Granger. Any further misconduct may result in the same penalty...

Professor McGonagall was quite clear in her instructions. She placed you under my authority temporarily, but with the possibility of extension. There may be hope for you, after all. Good day, Miss Granger. "

Closing the heavy door behind her, Hermione paused in the hall, to further straighten her clothing.

Giving her backside another rub, she sighed and started up the hall, her thoughts already turning to the abridged version of her punishment that she would divulge to the boys.


	2. Chapter 2 Discussions

1On Fire Chapter 2 Common Room and Staff Room Discussions

A/N Contains corporal punishment of children. If that offends you please choose another story to read.

For those of you who read the first chapter of On Fire, there was a typo mid-chapter that said Chapter 2. This story has been condensed from an earlier "publication"; the real chapter two is as follows: 

Hermione emerged from the dungeon stairwell and peeked cautiously into the entrance hall. Seeing it blessedly empty, she darted, somewhat stiffly, across and into the nearest girls' lavatory.

Looking into the mirror above the porcelain basin, she groaned. She looked as bad as she felt. Her eyes were red, her nose was red, her face was still blotchy and her bottom still smarted.

There was no way she could face the boys like this.

Working quickly, in case someone came in, Hermione pulled out some paper toweling with trembling hands and wet it under the gushing stream of cold water in the sink. Pressing her impromptu compress onto her face, she sighed and tried to sort out her emotions.

She had expected Professor Snape to yell. She was prepared for him to yell. She wasn't at all prepared for him to - well, to do what he did. 

A spanking. The one teacher at Hogwarts that she disliked, and that she was certain disliked her, had taken her across his knee and spanked her like she was five years old. On her bare bottom. A man had seen her naked backside. The humiliation was almost too great to bear and Hermione's eyes filled again with tears.

_Get a grip, Granger! _She huffed to herself, forcing herself to blink away her tears. _You deserved it you know! And it could have been much worse; you could have been expelled! _

With a shaky sigh, she put the compress in the garbage, pushed her frizzy hair away from her face and trudged wearily toward Gryffindor Tower.

_Harry and Ron can't find out about the you-know-what_, she thought to herself as she climbed the stairs. _I'll tell them he yelled. A lot. And if they can tell I was crying, well, wouldn't anyone weep from fright if Snape was shouting at them in his office?_

Right. Resolved, Hermione's pace picked up as she neared the Gryffindor common room.

"You look tired Dearie," the Fat Lady murmured as she swung the portrait hole open after Hermione had given the password (phoenix feathers).

"A nice bath and bed for you, I think", the motherly painting's voice trailed behind the little girl as she stepped into the room.

Ron and Harry had obviously been waiting for Hermione to appear and they jumped up, knocking their exploding snap cards to the floor.

"Hermione! Are you expelled? Did you get detention? Was Snape really angry?"

The boys' anxious tones swept over her as they dragged her to a sofa in the corner of the busy common room.

Hermione had no time to further prepare herself for what she was going to tell them before they had literally pushed her onto the sofa. Unintentionally, Hermione sucked in a breath as her tender bottom made contact with the leather cushion.

Although neither of her friends were normally very observant about many things, they both immediately stiffened and their barrage of questions escalated.

"What did he do to you, Hermione! " Harry demanded while Ron, with narrowed eyes, nodded his head. 

"Uhuh. He walloped you, didn't he!"

"Ssshh, sshh, sshh!" Hermione hissed, flushing to the roots of her hair.

" I don't want everyone to know, so shut it!" her eyes were desperate and her friends immediately closed their mouths and looked around, making sure nobody was watching. Luckily, Saturday evenings in the common room were a hubub of activity and no one had noticed the three first years.

"Snape wouldn't do that to a _girl_!" Harry protested, appalled, "would he?" 

"Yeah, well, this is Snape we're talking about, remember?" Ron leaned in,

"Fred and George have had a few run-ins with The Greasy Git, and it wasn't pretty. I wouldn't put it past him to hit a girl!"

"Do you mind!" Hermione whispered fiercely, "He didn't hit me, he spanked me, OK!"

There. It was out. She had said it. She hadn't made it two minutes into the common room and she had blurted it out.

Harry sat back, dumbfounded. Ron patted her shoulder compassionately. 

"It'll be OK. You'll feel better tomorrow, trust me."

Hermione narrowed her own eyes and gave Ron an assessing look.

"How would you know, Ronald?"

"Well, come on Hermione, hasn't everybody been smacked at least once in their life?" Ron looked at both his friends, blue eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"It's a pretty common thing in the wizarding world. Don't muggles spank their kids? You mean you guys have never been spanked? Ever?" Ron sounded incredulous and Hermione rushed to defend her muggle upbringing.

"Yes, Ron. Some people in the non-magical world spank their children, but not everyone, and some of us have parents that don't feel they need to use that sort of discipline." She squirmed in her seat, uncomfortably.

"What about you , Harry?" Ron turned to Harry, obviously wanting Harry's input .

"Well, I..yeah..." Harry ventured, apprehensive about revealing too much about his background, "It's pretty common with muggles, too."

"Maybe, " Harry spoke quickly, wanting to finish this conversation without an argument between his two friends,

"Maybe it's a boy thing. You know, girls just aren't so..so likely to get spanked?"

"I don't know Harry," Ron's voice was knowledgeable, "My parents are as quick to smack Ginny as they are the rest of us." He stopped, abruptly, his freckled face flushing, thinking maybe he had revealed too much about his home life.

"Want to play a game of exploding snap?" Harry was anxious to change the topic, "Ron and I were just setting up."

Ron eagerly jumped up and ran to gather the cards. Hermione studied her hands in her lap and gave Harry a sidelong glance. Catching her eye, Harry gave a little sympathetic smile. Hermione, sighed, relieved. Everything would be OK.

Severus Snape watched the door to his office swing closed behind Hermione Granger. 

This had been a rather unexpected turn of events. It was unlike Minerva to send her students to him. She had punished her own students, albeit too lightly, for transgressions against him in the past. 

Why the change? Granted, she had given him full clearance to discipline the Weasley twins, but they were terrors.

Yes, the chit had set him on fire, of all things, but it wasn't as though he had been in any real danger. What's a water charm to a wizard, after all?

Intrigued, Severus idly tapped his quill against the desk. Well, there was only one thing to do. 

He'd have to go to the staff room and get to the bottom of this. No doubt Minerva was there, waiting for him to report. Better for him to find her there than to have her descend into his office. He liked to be in control of the situation.

As Severus expected, the Transfiguration professor was ensconced in her favourite chair, feet up, tea in hand, smiling absently at the anecdote Pomona was relating. The staff room was quiet with only Minerva, Pomona, and Filius present.

"Aah, Severus!" the witch welcomed, quickly putting her tea aside and sitting up.

"Minerva," Snape inclined his head in her direction, " Pomona, Filius."

Strolling casually to the ever ready teapot, Severus poured himself a cup and headed to the chair closest the fireplace.

"How are you ,Severus?" Filius questioned, his short frame dwarfed in his overstuffed floral chair.

"No lingering effects from your attempted incineration?" Pomona asked, her brown eyes twinkling in her round, lined face.

Obviously, Minerva had filled them in. A bit, anyway, since they had already discussed the Broom and Fire Incident in the afternoon.

"Miss Granger came to see you, Severus?" Minerva inquired, lightly. 

"Yes." Severus set his full cup on the table beside his chair. "Imagine my surprise when your star pupil arrived in my office, babbling on about a confession and passing me a note. From you, no less."

The wizard sat and tipped his head forward to watch Minerva from behind his black curtain of hair.

"Yes. Well, Severus, it was the least I could do, really. It was you she had assaulted, so of course, I felt it would be best if you were to deal with the situation." Minerva stated, all goodwill and biscuits.

"Hmmm" Snape sat back in the wingback chair and took a leisurely sip of his tea.

As expected, Minerva took the bait. "What do you mean by that, Severus? That hhmmm."

Severus pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.

"It is interesting that you would send your student to me, knowing full well the kind of discipline I employ, yet openly condemning that discipline to all who will listen."

Pomona and Filius, once again a rapt audience, shared a glance.

"Indeed, Severus." Minerva shifted in her chair, "I don't condemn your style of discipline, I just don't think it appropriate for my students, most of the time."

"And?" Snape leaned forward and and turned his eyes toward the severe looking witch. 

"And perhaps, this was one of those times, those rare times, when I thought this particular student would perhaps benefit from your approach." 

"Are you admitting, not only that my approach may have some merit, but that you lack the constitution to borrow my approach and discipline your own student?" Severus' eyes were piercing, his posture intent.

"Your approach does have merit at times, Severus," Minerva was determined to meet his gaze. "And yes, perhaps, with this particular child, I would find it especially hard to discipline her appropriately."

"So you let me play the big bad wolf. Saving you the stress of turning a well deserving student across your knee, and perpetuating my Nasty Git image with your House." Snape smirked. There was a pregnant pause. "Not that I mind, of course."

"Well, yes, Severus. It does serve to promote your reputation, after all." Minerva sighed to herself, glad that Severus had the grace to let her off the hook.

" So did you? Put her across your knee, Severus?" Pomona broke in, "I always find disciplining the first year girls the hardest, such tender little seedlings they are."

Snape snorted. "That, is between me, Miss Granger and the Discipline Book." He took another measured sip of his tea.

"However, you may rest assured that she was sufficiently chastised, repented accordingly, and will feel the effects at least overnight."

"I seem to recall," Filius adjusted his pillows and sat up a little straighter, "another young Gryffindor, many years ago, who required a corrective hand to help her walk the straight and narrow."

"Filius, " Minerva drew her mouth into a prim line, "you keep your concern to your Ravenclaws." Twin spots of colour blossomed in her thin cheeks.

"Oh, ho. What is this?" Severus turned to Filius, his slate eyes glinting, "Could it be that our esteemed Professor of Transfiguration has some corporal punishment secrets from her youth?"

"Never you mind, Severus", Minerva sputtered, flustered, "And Filius, I'll thank you to keep this information to yourself."

Filius chuckled, enjoying himself. "Minerva, my dear, no details. I just think it appropriate that Severus realize that there have been other Heads of House who have guided students from a different house throughout their time as students at Hogwarts."

"Filius, that's something I've always meant to ask you." Pomona furrowed her brow.

"Given your..petit stature, just how do you discipline your students when they require a firm hand?"

"As a Head of House for nearly seventy years, plus dealing with my own seven children, I've had a bit of practice, Pomona. And," Filius brushed a speck of lint off his sleeve, "I'm not the Professor of Charms, for naught."

At that, Pomona laughed outright.

Severus, noting that Minerva's feathers still seemed a little ruffled, and not wanting to get into a reminiscence of school days misdemeanours, opened his mouth.

"If physical correction is what is required to guide a student into a witch of your calibre, Minerva,"Severus stood and set his empty cup beside the teapot,

"Then I will gladly spank Hermione Granger once a week for the next seven years."

Severus once again strode from the room, his robes billowing.

Amidst the laughter following Severus' uncharacteristic compliment, Minerva basked in his praise and congratulated herself on having made a good decision.


	3. Chapter 3 Dragons Abound

A/N From Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone : Harry and Hermione have been waiting in McGonagall's study after Filch found them coming down from the astronomy tower:

"Hermione was trembling. Excuses, alibis and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Harry's brain, each more feeble than the last. He couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time." p177 HPPS.

Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway of her study. Her face was drawn, she was absolutely livid.

"I don't know what you two were up to, but you better have an exceptional reason for being out of bed at this hour !"

If it were possible, the professor's thin lips were even thinner and she looked formidable in her tartan dressing gown and hairnet.

"I am just returning from delivering Draco Malfoy to Professor Snape, blathering some cock and bull story regarding a dragon. 

"I do hope your explanation will enlighten me. I would hate to think that Mr. Malfoy was punished inappropriately. 

"I would also hate to think that two of my students would be involved in something so highly illegal !"

"I...well...we...that is to say..."Harry was desperately grasping for something to say.

"We wanted to see if Mars was really red this evening Professor ! "Hermione blurted,

"I know it was wrong, but we really wanted to see it, you know how interested I am in astronomy. Draco must have just wanted to get us into trouble! 

"Wherever would we get a dragon?" Hermione's heart was racing.

Harry turned to Hermione in shock, his mouth open. This was the second time he'd heard her lie to a professor and it was just as surprising ! 

He noticed Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes flit to him and he quickly tried to do his part.

"Hermione ! You weren't going to tell !" He flushed with the lie and hoped the professor would misinterpret it.

Professor McGonagall crossed her arms and stared at them. Harry wondered how she could be so intimidating dressed in a green wool wrapper, with grey hairs poking out of her medieval style hairnet.

Hermione was certain her heart would stop as she waited for the elderly witch's reaction. Clutching her jumper nervously, she chewed on her bottom lip.

Finally, McGonagall expelled a forceful breath.

"Do you have anything to add, either of you?" Her voice was cold.

"No Professor," both students chorused in unison.

"It would seem, then that there is more to this story than I am going to get from either of you, this night." the professor's fingers tapped briskly against her crossed arms.

"Perhaps I have done Mr Malfoy a disfavour in escorting him to his Head of House at One. O'clock. In The Morning."

"Obviously, you deliberately led your fellow student astray, hoping to get him in trouble while you yourselves were out of bounds, after hours."

Neither Harry or Hermione could dispute their professor's incorrect assumption without being caught in an untruth, so they resolutely kept their eyes fixed on the polished flagstone floor.

"I am so very, very disappointed in you both," McGonagall's stern words cut Hermione to the quick and she stifled a sob.

"Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor-"

"No!" both children gasped.

"Each." Harry's shoulders slumped. Great, trying to help out a friend and now all of Gryffindor will be angry with them for the loss of points.

"As well, you will both be paying a visit to Professor Snape. To receive the same punishment as I am sure has been meted out to Mr. Malfoy.."

At this pronouncement, Hermione's heart dropped to her shoes and she jerked her head up.

"But, Professor!"

"Miss Granger. I realize you are already acquainted with Professor Snape's discipline tactics. 

"Since it obviously did not prevent you from partaking in further rule breaking, perhaps a second dose will help you mend your ways."

Professor McGonagall's voice was clipped, her eyes flinty.

"As for you, Mr Potter," Harry quickly averted his gaze from Hermione back to the irate professor, his breath quickening.

"I think you, too, could benefit from a session with Professor Snape."

Harry had no doubts about what this "session" would entail; he remembered all too clearly Hermione's discomfort following her first experience with discipline Snape-style.

Keeping his mouth firmly closed, Harry just nodded. 

His thoughts raced. Would Snape be harder on him than Hermione? Why did Hagrid have to get a dragon egg in the first place!

"As it already so late, you will report back to your dormitory for the rest of the night. 

"You will report to Professor Snape immediately following breakfast tomorrow morning. 

"Go now, before I change my mind and decide to discipline you myself !"

Both students needed no further instruction. They fled into the hallway and didn't stop until they got to their common room.

"Harry, do you realize what we're in for?" Hermione's voice was trembling and her eyes were wide.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, rubbing a stitch in his side from running all the way there.

"He's gonna whale the tar out of us." he dropped into the nearest chair,

"But at least we can take comfort knowing that Malfoy got it too."

"Probably not as hard as we will, " groaned Hermione

"I don't want to think about it," Harry shook his head.

Although he had told Ron and Hermione he had been spanked, in reality, Uncle Vernon had only ever given him a few smacks on the rear, much preferring to box his nephew's ears or lock him in his cupboard.

The thought of receiving a real spanking, from Snape, of all people, was more than he could comprehend at this late hour.

"We better get to bed," Hermione headed toward the stairs,

"Professor McGonagall might come by to check."

"You're such a goody-two-shoes,"Harry teased, amazed at himself for being able to joke with his brain in such turmoil.

"Yeah, right." Hermione gave a half smile over her shoulder as she disappeared into the girls' dormitory.

The following morning, Harry and Hermione stopped, on their way to breakfast, to visit Ron in the infirmary.

While his hand was looking much better, Ron was disgusted that Madam Pomfrey was insisting he stay for another day.

"She says if it's a dog bite, then where's the dog?" Ron grumbled, shoving his scramble into his mouth petulantly.

"So! How'd it go with the dragon, then?" His eyes searched their faces expectantly.

"What happened? Didn't Charlie's friends show up?"

Hermione nodded, feebly.

"So what then? Oh, you got caught." Ron swivelled his head between his two friends and gestured with his fork for them to elaborate. Or speak at all.

"We...umm, Filch caught us on the way back down and took us to McGonagall." Harry volunteered, reluctantly. 

"And she took 50 points from each of for being out after curfew." Hermione added, glumly. She sought out Harry's eyes with her own. They hadn't discussed how much they would tell Ron.

"100 points?" Ron whistled, "That hurts."

"There's more," Harry sighed. Ron would find out anyhow. He'd rather he hear it straight from them.

"McGonagall had already found Malfoy up the tower, waiting to catch us.

"She hauled him off to Snape-

"Really?" Ron's eyebrows shot up. "I'd have loved to see that!"

"-and came back to her study to find us."

"Filch had left us there,"Hermione supplied.

"She was furious,"Harry continued his narrative,

"And after she took the points away, she said we're to go to Snape this morning and get the same as what Draco Malfoy got."Harry concluded, sitting down on the edge of Ron's bed.

Ron was silent for a moment.

"Hey, I bet Snape didn't do anything to Malfoy! You know how he favours Slytherin. I bet he never punished him at all, so he wouldn't be able to do anything to you guys either!

"You could be right!" Harry brightened.

"I don't think so," Hermione stated, her tone matter of fact.

"Professor McGonagall would know what Snape would do to Malfoy. She knew what he would do to me." the girl flushed, but continued,

"And it seemed, well, I'm no expert, but it seemed like he had a lot of experience with this sort of thing."Hermione shrugged, resigned.

The three of them sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, each absorbed in their own thoughts

"We better get going,"Harry rose and turned to Ron,

"Have a good day, mate ."

"Yeah," Ron sighed,"Better to be me than you, I guess."

Breakfast had already started as Harry and Hermione approached the open doors of the Great Hall. The enticing aroma of eggs, sausage, kippers, and toast drifted out amidst the clatter of dishes and murmur of voices.

The two latecomers stepped inside the door, just in time to see Draco Malfoy lower himself hesitantly onto a bench. He looked up and saw them; his eyes narrowed and he sneered.

"Well, I guess that answers that question." Harry mumbled as they made their way to the Gryffindor tables.

"I guess,"Hermione added, despondent.

Hermione was absently poking holes in her grapefruit half, watching Harry across the table and wondering how he could eat, knowing what was in store for them, when the conversation around her died and she became aware of a presence behind her.

She looked up, startled, only to meet Professor Snape's black eyes, looking down at her.

"Miss Granger." His face was emotionless. His eyes flicked to Harry,

"Mr. Potter."

Hermione swallowed. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"My office. In 30 minutes." He glanced down at Hermione once more before turning and striding out of the hall, his long strides purposeful.

Hermione gave up all pretense of eating and shoved her plate away.

Ignoring the whispers around them, and the accusing stares of their House mates who were aware of the Big Loss of Points, Harry and Hermione looked at each other, bleakly.

"Thirty minutes" breathed Harry, his face pale.

"I feel like I'm gonna walk the plank."

With unspoken accord, both children stood from the table and headed for the entrance. They needed somewhere to hide out and compose themselves before starting down to the dungeons.

Wrapped up in thoughts of their impending doom, neither noticed Draco Malfoy, shifting on his bench but watching them with raised eyebrows and gleeful smile.


	4. Chapter 4 Best Laid Plans

1On Fire Chapter 6 Best Laid Plans

Severus Snape pulled the door to his quarters closed behind him and sighed. Loosening the buttons of his frock coat with one hand, he activated his wards with a flick of his wand.

Stepping further into the room, the tall wizard lit a few candles and warmed his teapot. 

The calm routine of the simple domestic tasks soothed his weariness and he gratefully sank into his favourite chair. Tea in hand, latest copy of _Potions__Master Today _on the side table, he prepared to take a few minutes to wind down before retiring for the night.

_Half-twelve! These dunderheads get more verbose on parchment every year. In a couple of years, I'll be spending all night grading papers. _

Pensive, Severus stared out over the lake. The enchanted window in his quarters showed Hogwarts Lake and tonight the moon hung low over the water, polishing the serene surface.

With an abrupt movement, he reached beneath the Potions journal and picked up a second periodical. _Astronomers of the Empire _was a favourite. Feeling the need to concentrate on something other than potions or children, he flipped idly through the pages. 

Contrary to popular belief, Severus Snape, the feared Potions Master of Hogwarts had a hobby other than terrorizing innocent children. He loved the sky. The mesmerizing movements of the constellations repeating age old patterns with predicted, and some unpredicted, variations comforted him. A symphony for the eyes, in his opinion.

Partway through a particularly interesting editorial, his wards flared. Blue. A professor was at his office door.

Irritated at being disturbed, yet curious, Snape quickly waved a stasis charm over his candles and strode through the door that connected his personal quarters to his office. 

Deciding that whatever it was, it would be quickly dealt with, he left off his frock coat and proceeded as he was, in his white buttoned up shirt and black waistcoat.

Opening his office door with a scowl, he was surprised to see Minerva McGonagall standing there in her nightclothes. Draco Malfoy stood beside her, rubbing his ear and frowning sulkily.

"I had the misfortune to be rudely disturbed this evening, Professor Snape," Minerva started in without preamble.

"Mr. Malfoy was adamant that two of my students were up in the astronomy tower, rendezvousing with a dragon."

"Imagine my surprise," the witch's tone was dry,

"When the astronomy tower was devoid of both Gryffindors and dragons."

Draco's face was indignant,"It's true I tell you-"

The boy fell abruptly silent when his Head of House raised an eyebrow.

"I will leave him in your capable hands, Severus. I have, however, deducted 20 points from Slytherin for this pointless interruption of my much needed rest."

McGonagall pulled her wrapper tighter around her thin frame.

"Good evening to you both."

"Beauty sleep" Draco muttered, not quite under his breath as the transfiguration professor disappeared around the corner of the dungeon corridor.

Snape cleared his throat and Draco started.

"In." Holding the office door open, Severus frowned and Draco scooted under his arm into the confines of the dim room.

"Sit." His professor pointed to a chair and Draco quickly sat. His pale blue eyes wandered warily around as Snape moved to the desk and leaned on it, casually.

"Explain"

"It is true, Professor! Potter and Granger are taking a dragon up the tower, tonight!"

"A dragon." the professor's voice held a hint of disbelief

"Not a big one, a baby one! That oaf, Hagrid, you know, the half-giant? He's been hatching an egg! A dragon egg! "

Severus' eyes narrowed, imperceptibly. "Go on."

Draco leaned forward, encouraged.

"He's been caring for it in his hut! Calls himself its mummy!"

"They're taking it somewhere. Tonight! It's true, Professor! "

Draco slumped in his chair, the picture of indignation. His eyes searched his professor's face, looking for some sign of his feelings.

Severus rubbed a hand over his face. Hagrid had a dragon. Merlin's beard. He didn't doubt Draco's story. It was too outlandish not to be true. And his students knew he could smell a lie at 50 paces.

"How long have you known about this dragon, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh I saw it just after it hatched. That'd be about a fortnight past."Draco was eager to share details, convinced that he would have Potter and his little girlfriend caught after all.

"A fortnight." the professor's face was thoughtful, his speech measured.

" And you told no one?"

"Well, I did tell Vincent and Greg, but they weren't really interested.." Draco tipped his head, suddenly not so sure of himself.

"So this evening you took it upon yourself, knowing there was to be a dragon in the castle, an illegal and dangerous magical creature in a castle full of children, to alert Professor McGonagall to the situation. Correct?"

Draco shifted, unable to read the expression in Snape's dark eyes, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his gut.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me, Mr. Malfoy, as to which house you belong?"

"I, uh, Slytherin, Sir?" Draco's unease was increasing.

"Indeed. And you had no feelings of obligation to inform the Head of your own House about this situation? Either this evening, or at any time during the past Two Weeks?" Snape's voice had sharpened, the deep tones piercing Draco's self assurance.

"No, Sir."

"Am I to surmise then, that your house loyalties have changed? Or was this a plot to get your fellow students caught in an illegal endeavour?

" One that involved you being out after curfew, no doubt out of bounds, at least once? A plan that has backfired? Resulting in a Loss of Points to your House, inciting the ire of another Professor and landing you in my office at One. O'clock. In The Morning?"

Draco hung his head, wondering how his Magnificent Plan cold have gone so completely sour.

Snape surveyed the top of the bowed blond head. He disliked punishing his students. But, Draco Malfoy was a spoiled child and spent too much time plotting how to get other children in trouble. 

Severus thought he had made some progress with the boy following the Remembrall Incident; Draco's first experience with being punished for his actions seemed to have curbed his maligning tendencies. Seemed to have.

Well. Time for Round Two of Malfoy versus Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy. Look at me." Draco obediently lifted his head and made eye contact with his Head of House.

"I am very disappointed in you." Draco's eyes filled with tears. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming. Snape was nothing, if not consistent.

"The Rules of Hogwarts are not to be broken. Slytherin House Rules are not to be broken." Snape spoke quietly, but firmly.

"Being out of your dormitory after curfew is in violation of Hogwarts' rules. Seeking the aid of another Professor rather than coming to your Head of House is in violation to Slytherin House Rules. 

"Slytherin first, Mr. Malfoy. Always.

"When, or if, you obtain information that fellow students might be involved in something illicit or inherently dangerous, you are to come to me. 

"That is part of being responsible. Slytherins are intelligent, cunning, observant , and responsible."

Severus summoned the armless chair from against the wall with a motion of his hand.

Draco swallowed. Snape never said Slytherins had to be stoic. Tears were already making tracks down his pale cheeks.

"To me, Mr. Malfoy." Snape, seated, crooked a finger in the boy's direction.

"Please, Sir," Draco began, only to be cut off.

"Silence, Mr. Malfoy. Do you need me to remind you of my punishment rules?" 

Draco shook his head. No begging, or pleading, he remembered. Slowly he shuffled over to the chair.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Malfoy, and I'm not a patient man."

Without being told, Draco unfastened his trousers and pushed them to his knees, along with his pants.

Unceremoniously, he found himself pulled across Snape's knees. Adjusted briefly so that his bottom was prominent, the spanks began raining down before Draco could catch his breath.

Lecture finished, Snape just wanted to get this over with and get to bed.

With out pause, twenty great smacks peppered the young boy's slim backside, turning the normally pale flesh pink, then ruddy. 

Draco writhed, tears streaming from his eyes and nose and dripping onto the stone floor. His whimpers had almost immediately turned to howls, especially when the assaulting hand targeted the juncture between bottom and thigh.

When he had finished, Snape replaced Draco's pants and trousers and stood him up. The boy's hair was mussed, his face was red with exertion of crying and his face was wet. 

Standing there, sniffling, with his shirt tails hanging out, he looked the picture of contrition.

"I trust we won't need a repeat of this interaction?" Severus' stern voice cut through Draco's well of self pity.

"N-No, Sir." Draco managed, his voice wavering and small.

"Good." Snape's hand rested briefly on Draco's shoulder,

"You may return to your dormitory."

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy," Draco turned, expectantly.

"You may rest assured that I will be following up on your dragon claims. 

"If Mr Potter and Miss Granger are, as you suspect, up to something, they will certainly be brought to justice."

Severus stood and replaced the chair to its former position. 

The boy trudged wearily to the door, a smile ghosting his still blotchy face.

"Goodnight, Professor," Draco hesitated, the door ajar.

"Goodnight, Draco."Snape's calm voice was reassuring. Draco nodded and quietly closed the door behind him.

Alone in his office, Severus sighed. It would seem his evening wasn't over yet. He turned toward his quarters, intent on retrieving his frock coat and outer robe. 

He had no qualms about the late hour of his intended visit to the gamekeeper's hut. Hagrid had some questions to answer.

As he reached for the doorhandle, the fire in his office grate flared and a rolled parchment sailed out. Catching it, Severus broke the McGonagall Crest seal and quickly perused the contents.

His eyebrows lowered, then raised slightly. He tapped the scroll against his thigh, then moved to his desk to pen a response. His night may have been difficult, but his morning looked promising.


	5. Chapter 5 Walking the Plank

1On Fire Chapter 7 : Walking the Plank

Harry and Hermione left the Great Hall and all its busy-ness and found a deserted classroom on the first floor.

Closing the door behind them, they slumped into chairs at the nearest table, their dejected movements unconsciously synchronized.

"What time is it now?" Harry asked, wondering how many of the thirty minutes they had used up since Snape accosted them in the Great Hall.

"We have about 25 minutes," Hermione rubbed her eyes, feeling nervous and agitated.

"So that's about 15 minutes before we should leave to get to the dungeons on time?" Harry's voice was tight. He swallowed.

"Why thirty minutes? Why not right then? This is horrible, this waiting."

"I think that's the point, Harry." Hermione's voice was muffled as she leaned on the table and buried her head on her arms. "Snape will want this to be as awful as possible. He knows we're up here, sweating."

"Git." Harry muttered, "Slimy, greasy, big nosed Git...What time is it now?"

"Harry!" 

"So, Hermione," Harry's voice was tentative, " If you don't mind telling me, and it's Ok if you don't , but I'm going to find out soon enough, so I was wondering...

"What exactly _did_ Snape do to you?"

"What do you mean, Harry, "Hermione snapped peevishly, embarrassed,

"You know what he did. He spanked me. OK?"

"Well, yes. I know that but, I just thought you might be able to tell me what to expect, being spanked by a wizard." His eyes troubled, Harry rested his chin on his hand.

"I expect it's quite like being spanked by a muggle, Harry." Hermione's embarrassment made her obstinate.

"Oh. My. God." Hermione bolted upright, her face horror- stricken. Harry's eyes widened.

" I just had the most awful thought." face pale, Hermione panicked.

"What if he punishes us at the same time?! I mean, while we're in the room together! What if we have to watch? I'm, I'm going to throw up." Hermione pushed her chair back and dropped her head between her knees.

Harry was speechless. He hadn't thought about that. Would Hermione be that upset with the thought of him witnessing her pain? Or for her to see him get walloped? Confused, he furrowed his brow.

"Hermione? Is it that bad?"

"Don't be dense, Harry," Hermione pulled her head up,

"It's just not proper. Boys should not see girls' bottoms, or vice versa!" 

She pushed her hair back and stood, oblivious to the horror dawning on Harry's face.

"It will be OK," Hermione announced, suddenly composed. 

"Even Snape could not be that evil. It's just not possible." She sounded a little over-confident, even to herself.

"Come on ,Harry!" Hermione pulled Harry up by the arm. He stumbled.

"Wait, Hermione. Wait just a minute." now Harry was panicking.

"Are you telling me," he swallowed convulsively,

"That Snape spanks on the bare?"

"Not now, Harry, we've get to get going. We can't be late!" Hermione maintained her grip on Harry's sleeve and pulled him to the door.

" I can't talk about it right now. Not when it's about to happen. Let's go!"

Harry caught the door as Hermione flung it open and yanked him into the corridor. He stumbled after her, blindly, thinking that this would probably be a good time to say a prayer, if he knew any.

The dungeon corridor was deserted, the children were glad to see. They stopped at the base of the final stairway to catch their breath.

"We can do this, Harry."Hermione's voice was bracing,

"We're Gryffindors, right?"

"Right." Harry was busy squashing the urge to run, run in any direction other than here, and Hermione's words renewed his confidence. He'd faced worse, hadn't he? It couldn't be worse than being beat up by Dudley and his gang, could it? Besides, he had to be brave. HE was the guy here. Hermione needed him to be tough.

Harry drew a deep breath and started off toward the Potions Classroom and Snape's office. Hermione matched his step. They'd walk off the plank together.

Snape stepped out of his classroom just as the two Gryffindors approached.

Lambs to the slaughter, he thought, noting the two pale faces.

"So good of you to join me," Snape gestured down the hall.

"Let us proceed to where we would be more...comfortable." He observed with satisfaction that his falsely polite tone had the desired effect: both children shivered and, if possible, paled further.

Opening the door to his office and ushering them through, Severus indicated the two chairs in front of his desk.

"Sit." They sat. Hermione's fingers worked nervously in the pleats of her skirt. Harry just sat very still, moving nothing but his eyes as he looked around the office.

Appropriate, he thought, grimacing inwardly at the grotesque and slimy contents of the many jars and phials lining the shelves of the room. The walls that were not covered with specimens and the like, were covered with books. Shelves and shelves of books. Harry had never seen so many outside a library.

Snape had positioned himself behind his desk. His leather office chair creaked as he sat and both students jumped.

Leaning forward, with his hands clasped on the polished surface of the desk, Severus steepled his fingers and stared. Both children squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Enlighten me," he began, his deep voice quiet but filling the room,

"As to how the two of you happened to be in the Astronomy Tower around midnight, last night."

Harry and Hermione's eyes met, then dropped. They hadn't expected an interrogation.

"We wanted to see Mars, Sir." Hermione quickly decided that they had better stick with the story they'd given McGonagall.

"It's reportedly especially red this week, especially last night, at about midnight."

"Really." the professor's voice was politely interested.

"Yes, it's um, quite unusual you see and I really wanted to see it. I dragged Harry along so I wouldn't be alone. So we would be safe, together. It's really not his fault we were up there and so really, it's not fair to punish him, Sir." Hermione flushed with the brilliance of her extemporaneous improvisation.

Snape's eyes moved to Harry, who once again was in awe of Hermione's ability to lie, outright, to a teacher.

"Mr. Potter. Do you have anything to add?"

"No, Sir." Harry knew he wouldn't be able to lie convincingly to Snape's face, so he wanted to say as little as possible. 

"Perhaps you are unaware, Miss Granger," the professor sat up straighter and laid his hands flat on the desk.

"Potions are not my primary interest in life. In fact, Potions Mastery was not even my first choice as a graduate student."

Hermione's face was puzzled as she tried to follow the bend in conversation.

"You see, I've always been fascinated with astronomy."

The look on Hermione's face was priceless Snape thought, as she digested this information. Harry looked from student to professor, bewildered. Something was wrong here.

" So please, Miss Granger," Snapes voice had sharpened. 

"Do Not. Insult my Intelligence by expecting me to believe such pathetic drivel. You know, I'm certain ,with your overabundant intellect, as I do, that Mars is never red prior to the solar equinox. Which is in June."

"Perhaps it would have been more accurate to have claimed to be seeking a new constellation. Perhaps one appropriately named _Draconis Mobilis?"_

Hermione wanted to fall through the floor. Professor Snape was actually smiling at her. And it wasn't a nice smile. It was a cat has the mouse kind of smile.

Harry had been scrambling to follow the conversation, futilely, until the words _Draconis Mobilis _were uttered. Then he knew, with a renewed sense of horror exactly what was going on.

Snape knew. About the dragon. And they were as good as dead.

"After my..discussion with Mr. Malfoy early this morning," Snape pushed his chair back and stood, assuming his lecture mode,

" I had the good fortune to be invited for tea with our worthy Groundskeeper, Hagrid. Perhaps you know him?"

Oh, he is enjoying this far too much, Hermione thought crossly. She crossed her arms on her chest.

"Imagine my surprise," Snape had strolled to the far side of his office and turned abruptly, his teaching robes billowing behind him,

"When he shared, with some encouragement, how indebted he was to you two first year Gryffindors. For making arrangements to have his infant Dragon, Norbert, I believe?, flown to a new home with Charlie Weasley, in Romania?

_Oh God_, Hermione thought, _Oh Mary, Mother of Merciful God. Hagrid, you great Prat, you blabbed everything!_

"An illegal magical creature, a species banned from Britain these past two hundred years, carried through a castle of sleeping children, somehow avoiding detection, to rendezvous with some young adults of questionable motives, who had agreed to transport said creature, via broomstick, countless hundred of kilometres, across an international border, to a Dragon Preserve in a foreign country." 

Snape paused, glaring at Hermione until she uncrossed her arms and folded her hands in her lap.

"Have you Any Idea how many rules and laws were broken during this escapade?" His voice raised slightly.

Neither child said anything.

"And never did it enter any of your collective minds that it might be prudent to notify an adult about this situation? At the beginning, when the dragon was still an Egg?

"Nor to think that there might be adults in this castle who care enough about Hagrid to want to help him avoid incarceration should this situation become public knowledge? Adults, like your Head of House, perhaps?"

Snape's voice was razor sharp now, cutting to the bone.

"And when caught out of bounds following the obviously successful completion of your foolhardy mission, you have the audacity to Lie about it? To your Head of House? And then, to me?"

Snape's tone was deadly. The two students were pinned to their chairs by his unswerving black gaze.

"Students learn very quickly Not. To Lie. To Me." The over-enunciation of his words sent a shiver down Hermione's spine.

"Sir." Harry leaned forward, his voice earnest.

"It's not Hermione's fault. Really. She would never have been part of this except that I couldn't carry the dragon by myself. I was the one who made the arrangements. Hermione wouldn't have been up on the tower at all if Norbert hadn't bitten Ron..."

Harry trailed off, realizing what he had just admitted.

"As noble as your over-inflated Gryffindor sense of heroism may be, Mr.Potter,

Severus stepped over in front of his desk, too close for the students' comfort,

"The time has long passed for either of you to try and assume all the blame so as to spare the other from certain punishment."

"As a noted wizard once said,'For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction'. In other words, there are always consequences."

"Learning to think before you act is a difficult concept for many children, especially those with Gryffindor tendencies." 

Harry looked up indignantly at this second perceived slur against his house.

"The fact remains, that it is up to those of us in authority to ensure that you receive ...guidance along your journey to adulthood.

"Guidance that will promote good behaviour, and truthfulness." He looked directly at Hermione. She flushed and dropped her eyes.

Sensing that his lecture had 'entertained' them long enough, Snape decided to deliver his sentence.

"Professor McGonagall has requested my assistance with said guidance, for this current, blatant, foolhardy display of disobedience and attempt at deception ."

Hermione studied her hands in her lap.

"It is my sincere desire," Professor Snape continued, 

"That the two of you will learn from this incident so that further misdemeanours may be avoided and less of my time spent disciplining unruly Gryffindors." 

He concluded with a slight sneer, staring down his nose at the two students perched apprehensively on their chairs.

"Miss Granger," 

Hermione started, her hands moving to clutch the sides of her chair.

"You may wait in the corridor until Mr. Potter and I have concluded our business."

Glancing quickly at Harry, Hermione slid off the wooden seat and sidled past Professor Snape toward the door.

As the heavy wooden door closed with a click, Snape drew his wand and gave it a lazy flick, murmuring a few words under his breath.

Returning his wand to his sleeve, he moved to the far side of his desk and began removing his teaching robes; hanging then on a hook near a particularly disgusting jar of pickled miniature squid.

Harry's eyes tracked the professor's movements with a kind of detached horror. The moment he had been dreading had arrived.

Snape carried a (somewhat infamous) armless chair to the centre of the room and set it down lightly on the stone floor.

He turned to face Harry fully, one hand on the back of the chair.

Mr. Potter." Harry swallowed.

"It has been my experience that the best method of punishing younger students is through stringent application of discipline to the seat of the problem."

Severus hitched the legs of his trousers fastidiously, and sat in the chair. Harry was certain he had never seen such a foreboding sight in all his short life (He couldn't remember Voldemort after all)

"A spanking, Mr Potter. You needn't look like a frightened rabbit.

"No doubt your doting family has never raised a hand to you, given the lack of respect and willful disregard for rules you have exhibited since your entrance to this institution.

"Well I, acting _in loco parentis_, am more than up to the task. To me, Potter."

Harry's legs were frozen. A spanking. Frightened rabbit? Doting family? In loco parentis? Snape's words whirled in his head.

_Get a grip, Harry_, he thought to himself. _This is just Snape. There are worse things that could be happening! _

Although he couldn't think of just what, his legs were forced into motion by some invisible internal force.

Stopping slightly to the left of Snape's knees, Harry looked into his Professor's eyes. Determined to summon some of that legendary Gryffindor bravery, he vowed to himself to take his punishment like a man.

Letting his eyes sweep from the top of Harry's head, to his scuffed shoes and back up again, Snape again met Harry's steely gaze.

"There are rules, Potter. During your punishment there will be no begging, no pleading, no name calling, or profanity.

"You may not hit, kick, bite, or harm me in any way. Do. Not. Break these rules."

Harry thought, briefly, that it sounded like The Git recited those rules on a regular basis.

"Drop your trousers and your pants and position yourself across my legs,"Snape commanded.

Harry hesitated only a nanosecond before complying; he didn't want to give this man any reason to increase his punishment.

The dungeon air was cool and downy pre-adolescent hairs stood up on the back of Harry's legs as he carefully bent over the lap in front of him.

Snape's left hand came up to guide him. Although every nerve bundle in Harry's conscious mind was screaming at him to resist, Harry let Snape tuck his right arm up across his lower back and hold it, and trap his left between his torso and Snape's.

Flipping the boy's shirttail out of the way, Snape started spanking immediately.

One! Two! Three! Four! Harry grunted but bit his lip to keep from crying out. He could take this.

Five, six! Seven! Eight! Snape's heavy hand struck a slow staccato on Harry's exposed bottom. 

Not as bad as sunburn, Harry thought, letting out a small gasp as Snape shifted his backside a little higher and the smacks increased in intensity.

Nine! Ten! Eleven! TweLVE! This was worse than sunburn! Briars and nettles!

THIRTEEN! FOURTEEN! FIFTEEN! SIXTEEN! Hornets! Harry struggled to avoid the punishing hand and small cries escaped between his lips.

SEVENTEEN! EIGHTEEN! Snape concentrated his efforts on the crease between bottom and thigh, the small buttocks a uniform shade of red. Harry couldn't hold back any longer, he let himself go and began to weep in earnest.

NINETEEN!...TWENTY! Harry was certain he would never sit again. The raging inferno on his butt was consuming.

Severus sat quietly, resting his smarting hand on Harry's legs and letting the boy sob. He couldn't help but compare Harry's behaviour with Draco's and be mildly impressed with the black-haired boy's stoicism. He had expected screams, or at least howls.

Regaining a little composure, Harry pushed his left hand against Snape's leg in order to rise. To his surprise, the professor helped him to stand, passed him a handkerchief and watched as Harry replaced his pants and trousers, leaving his shirt hanging out.

Wiping his face and nose with the clean cloth, Harry realized belatedly that Snape still had hold of his arm. Embarrassed, his backed away a step, and Snape let his hand fall.

Waiting a moment, Severus stood. His knees cracked and he noticed Harry snorted through his sniffles.

Raising a black brow, Snape allowed himself to smirk as Harry rapidly dropped his gaze to the floor.

" If there is a next time, Mr Potter, you may be assured that I will not be so lenient." The wizard's voice was stern.

"You may go."

Harry needed no further encouragement, wanting only to get away somewhere that he could rub his flaming bottom with no one to see.

" Send Miss Granger in." floated into the corridor as the boy made his hasty exit. He turned to see Hermione standing anxiously before him, nervously wringing her hands. He shook his head quickly and pointed upward. 

Hermione nodded, correctly interpreting his motion as I'll meet you upstairs.

The little girl closed her eyes momentarily, summoning her courage, and stepped into the open doorway.

Only to come up short in front of Professor Snape, her nose almost touching one of the fabric covered buttons of his black frock coat.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled.

"Do come in, Miss Granger,"Snape intoned and stood back so she could pass.

Once in the room, Hermione was unsure just what to do , so she stood quietly by the large polished desk and watched the professor.

Snape closed and warded the door before turning to his student. He moved to the chair, sitting ominously in the centre of the room, and stood beside it. He made eye contact with Hermione as he bent his lanky form and sat on the wooden seat.

"Miss Granger. I am disappointed that we should be meeting in this way again so soon."

Hermione couldn't keep her eyes on his; she looked at the floor.

"Perhaps this time I will be able to impress upon you the importance of abiding by the rules.

"We also need to address this appalling habit of lying to your Professors."

Biting her lip, Hermione moved the toe of her shoe along a crack in the stone floor.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, young lady."

Hermione's head jerked up and she looked at his face, hesitantly. His black eyes bored into her brown ones and she felt shame welling up inside.

"Professor McGonagall may be prepared to accept your penchant for lying, but I am not. 

"It was blatantly obvious to me that you were lying about the troll, and now you have spun a web and trapped yourself with your explanation for this latest stunt."

Her chest tight, Hermione forced back her tears. Yes, she had lied twice, but each time she was trying to save someone else's skin. Didn't that count for anything?

As if he had anticipated her thoughts, Snape continued,

"You may feel that your actions were justified, but they most definitely were not. A reputation as a liar is something you do Not want to have hanging over your name. I do Not tolerate being lied to, Miss Granger.

"This tendency to tell untruths must be nipped in the bud before you further the habit. It is my intention to do just that.

Snape reached out his hand from his seated position and Hermione forced herself to approach his right side. He took her small hand in his and drew her closer.

"Never lie to me again." 

Hermione shook her head, her throat was too clogged with emotion to speak.

As her blouse was tugged out of her skirt and her professor tipped her across his knee, Hermione thought she had never felt quite so awful in her heart. Snape's words had cut to the bone.

She lay there, resigned, as Snape secured her right hand in his left, and lifted her skirt.

"I trust you remember the rules?"

"Yes Sir,"Hermione's voice came out sounding very young and Severus noted that in this position she looked very young as well.

With no further ado, Snape drew her knickers, pink this time, to her knees and applied the first smack to the centre of her bottom. His hand appeared dark against the milky skin of her backside and left a distinct pink print when lifted.

Smack!...Smack!...Smack!...Hermione was already crying, her breathing uneven. This spanking hurt more than the last, she was certain.

Smack!...Smack!...Smack!...Severus wanted to be certain that he was getting his point across as he systematically covered the little bottom in front of him.

Smack!...Smack!...Smack!...Professor Snape left just enough time between spanks for the pain to blossom to its fullest. Hermione's tears dripped to the floor and she yelped audibly.

Smack!...Smack!...Smack!...certain she couldn't bear any more, Hermione twisted on the hard thighs beneath her. 

In response, Snape moved his left hand so that his forearm pinned Hermione's right hand to her back and he wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her in tighter. 

Lifting his right leg, he concentrated on her lower bottom and thighs for the last several spanks, each one eliciting a small cry from the little girl.

Giving up, Hermione collapsed over her professor's lap and sobbed brokenly.

Finishing up with a mighty Smack!, Snape let his hand rest. Unconsciously he rubbed small circles on Hermione's back as she wept.

When it seemed that she was catching her breath, Severus pulled her knickers over the glowing bottom and stood her up. Wordlessly, he handed her a handkerchief, seemingly out of nowhere.

Hermione scrubbed at her face and tried to get herself under control. Her bottom was throbbing with pain and her heart was aching. The respect of her professors was something she strived for. The thought that she could have jeopardized that filled her with bitter remorse.

Severus sat quietly, watching the varied emotions flit over Hermione's face. Finally, he spoke.

"We all make mistakes, Miss Granger. The important thing is to learn from them so as not to repeat ourselves.

Hermione looked searchingly into his eyes. With him seated and her standing, they were at a similar height.

"One of the benefits of being young is that mistakes are expected, and our elders are, usually, able to look past them and focus on the person that child will become."

Professor Snape's words flowed over Hermione like a balm to her soul. Maybe she still had a chance to earn her professors' respect. Maybe all was not lost.

A sigh escaped Hermione's lips and she took a shaky breath.

"Thank you, Profesor Snape,"she said, subdued yet heartened.

"You are welcome, Miss Granger,"Snape replied evenly.

"You may go."

As he stood to return the chair against the wall, Hermione walked stiffly to the door. Pulling it opened, she turned to find him watching her. He nodded and she slipped out into the corridor, closing the door behind her as she went.


	6. Chapter 6 Weasley Wisdom

1On Fire Chapter 8 Weasley Wisdom 

Hermione had taken only a few steps up the first stairway leading from the dungeons when she was accosted from behind.

"Oi! Hermione!"

"What brings a nice little witch like you-"

"- into a dreary place like this?" 

Fred and George Weasely stepped up , one on each side of her.

"We best help you-"

"-along your way"

They each took hold of one of Hermione's elbows and propelled her rapidly up the stairs and into the nearest empty classroom.

Once inside, they quickly closed the door and motioned to her for silence. 

Moments later, rumbling footsteps and angry voices could be heard rushing up the stairway, past the door and on up the next set of stairs.

"Yes!" Fred, or George, raised his fist in the air in a victory sign. The other twin grinned and did a little dance.

"One more for the Best of the Weasley's and one less for Slytherin!"

"Yeah, just wish we could have seen their faces - Hang on!"

"George, take a look at this will you?" Fred had stopped short at the sight of Hermione's face.

"Oh," George drawled,"Let us make some observations about our subject:" He strolled in a circle around Hermione, tapping his chin.

"Disheveled clothing..."

"Blotchy face..."

"Teary little eyes..."

"A particular way of standing.."

"Yes, it's elementary my dear Fred-"

"Our little Hermione has been recently punished in a corporal manner"

Both boys stood in front of her, hands on their hips, eyes narrowed.

"Given the subject's location in the bowels of this academy-"

"It would appear that the perpetrator of this heinous crime-'

"Would be our favourite vampire bat of the dungeons,-"

"The Greasy Git."

"Are we correct in our-"

" assessment of the situation?" 

"If, so..."

"The question remains-"

"Why Snape?"

"Come on, tell Uncle Fred,-"

"What has our ickle 'Ermione done to tick off The Git?" Fred put his arm around Hermione's shoulder and drew her close.

"Perhaps, this might have-"

" something to do with-"

"The interesting owl that our brother "

"Ronald received just this morning?"

"Ron got an owl?" Hermione shrugged off Fred's arm. "In the Infirmary?"

"Well, it actually came to him in the Great Hall-"

"But seeing as how he has been indisposed, we, naturally, opened it."

"Anything that is a concern to our little brother is a concern to us."

"Especially when it might have reference to the substantial-

" loss of points suffered by our house last night."

Hermione shifted, unsure of how to proceed. She busied herself with tucking in her blouse and straightening her skirt before looking up.

"What did the owl say?"

"Aw, Hermione, you know-" George began,

"Owls don't talk." Fred grinned at her.

"The message was cryptic, actually. From our brother Charlie."

George took over, "all it said was 'Cargo delivered safely. Be good, Charlie.'"

"Care to explain?" Both red heads looked at her inquiringly for a moment.

Her mind racing, Hermione decided to follow Professor Snape's advice. Her bottom was a pulsing reminder after all.

Just as she was about to open her mouth, George took pity on her.

"Good for you Hermione. Never freely admit to anything."

"Remember that, it's good advice." Fred inserted.

"We visited Ickle Ronniekins in the Infirmary and with a little Coercion-"

"And only one mild hex-" Fred put in,

"He told us everything about Norbert and what you and Harry did to help out Hagrid and also-"

"About Malfoy's involvement, which prompted our little-"

"Invasion into Slytherin territory just now."

"Oh, "Hermione managed.

"So, actually, we already knew about your appointment with Snapey, having met up with Harry on our way down." George grinned at her, his blue eyes sypathetic.

"Don't worry, the pain will fade quickly. Snape's bark is worse than his bite."

"Take it from us. We're experts in this sort of thing."

"We could be poster children for corporal punishment, our mother says."

"And look at how well we've turned out!" Both boys laughed and moved to the door. 

"Looks like the coast is clear."

"We're off! Later, Hermione!"

With those quick words of encouragement, they zipped out into the corridor and out of sight.

Hermione, shook her head and sighed. Although she'd had enough contact with the Weasley twins to follow their divided conversation, interacting with them always left her feeling a little overwhelmed. 

Tentatively, she peeked out into the corridor. Seeing no one, she continued on her way upstairs, surreptitiously rubbing her backside as she went. The real pain had mostly faded, leaving a diminishing throb in its place. 

Harry was waiting in the unused classroom upstairs. It was obvious he'd been pacing, as there was a distinct path worn on the dusty floor.

"Hermione! What took so long? What did Snape do to you?"Harry sounded frantic. 

"I'm OK, Harry," Hermione soothed, "I just met up with Fred and George on the stairs."

"Oh, "Harry sighed, relieved. "Well, then. OK."

The children looked at each other, deciding what to say. 

"How do I look?"Hermione broke the silence, "I don't want to look like..you know...if we meet anyone on our way back."

"Uh, you look Ok I guess,"Harry didn't know what to say. "Maybe a little, um stressed? Like you've been studying too much?" 

"Oh. OK. That's good, Hermione nodded, shaking her bushy curls.

_Good_?, thought Harry. Maybe for Hermione.

"We better go see Ron," he ventured,"I'm worried about what I said to Snape, you know, about Ron getting bitten."

"Good idea,"Hermione brushed off her skirt and walked briskly to the door. 

Together they made their way down to the Infirmary and were relieved to see that Ron was alone. He wasn't happy though. They could see his scowl all the way from the doorway.

"'Bout time you lot showed up!" He groused,"I've been worried sick down here!"

"First Fred and George arrive with an owl message form Charlie - the you-know-what got to you-know-where safely- and practically beat the whole story out of me,"Ron paused for effect and to take a breath.

Harry and Hermione both murmured sympathetically.

"And then, what did you tell Snape anyway? He comes flying in here, all black robes and phials of smoking potions, making me drink some filthy tasting goo, muttering about 'undetected dragon poisons' and the like."

"Then," Ron paused for another breath, obviously needing to vent,

"He leans in close- this close-"

Ron gestured with two fingers

" to tell me that I should be glad I'm laid up with a dragon bite or else I'd find out about real discomfort!"

"And then! And then, he has the nerve to say that he's tempted to send an owl off to my parents to inform them of my _illicit actions! _

"He better not, they're likely to come right up here and kill me! Greasy Git!"

Ron sank back on his pillows, spent.

Hermione patted his hand, "You poor thing, having to put up with all that."

"Yeah, while we're in the dungeon getting our butts walloped." Harry didn't sound too sympathetic. 

"I don't think Snape will send an owl to your parents, "Hermione said, knowingly,

"He wouldn't want to risk word getting out about the dragon. It might get Hagrid into trouble."

"Yeah, sure,"Ron grumbled, "he'd probably _want_ Hagrid to get arrested."

"No he wouldn't,"Hermione sounded confident,

"One of the reasons he was upset with us was because we could have got Hagrid into serious trouble."

"He gave us a big lecture,"Harry added, once again trying to steer the conversation away from an argument.

"He went on about being responsible and stuff." Harry sounded aggrieved.

"Oh,"Ron looked back and forth between them,

"But you're OK, right? No lasting damage, I mean?"

"Yeah, we're good."Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"And Fred and George did something to Slytherin, to get back at Malfoy for us,"Hermione smiled, obviously pleased that the twins would act on their behalf.

"Ok then." Ron nodded and they sat in comfortable silence.

"Severus Snape," Minerva McGonagall's voice was sharp,

"Do you mean to tell me there actually was a dragon!?"

Snape was comfortably folded into a chair in Minerva's study while she paced.

He took a small sip of his tea and smirked, saying nothing.

"As much as I hate to admit it, it seems I owe Mr. Malfoy an apology." 

The stern witch lowered herself into her floral chair with a sigh.

"Are you certain that you have addressed Miss Granger's falsehoods?"

'I am" Severus nodded. "She was appropriately punished and subdued when she left my office. I expect this reprimand will remain in her mind for some time."

With an uncharacteristic lack of sympathy, McGonagall smiled grimly. 

"Good."

"We shall see, Severus. Perhaps I will be changing my method of discipline regarding those students. In the mean time, I appreciate that you would take matters in hand for me, so to speak." The witch's voice was dry.

"I will treat them no differently than I treat my Slytherins." Snape finished his tea and set the cup aside.

"Thank you for the tea, Minerva. It was my pleasure to have illuminated you in regard to the events of last evening."

As Severus rose and smoothed his robes, Minerva shook her head again.

" A dragon. In the castle. Imagine."

"Indeed." Snape inclined his head and exited, closing the door gently behind him.


	7. Chapter 7 Down the Rabbit Hole

1On Fire Chapter 9 Down the Rabbit Hole and Back

A/N Please take into consideration that I know very little about hexes and spells and plead artistic licence where necessary.

From Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone p208:

'Harry - you're a great wizard you know.'

'I'm not as good as you,' said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

'Me!' said Hermione. 'Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful!'

'You drink first,' said Harry. 'You are sure which is which, aren't you?'

'Positive,' said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered.

'It's not poison?' said Harry anxiously.

'No - but it's like ice.'

'Quick, go, before it wears off.'

'Good luck - take care -'

'GO!'

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

When Hermione emerged from the purple fire unscathed, she breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief and then immediately put her hand to her nose as the stench from the unconscious troll assaulted her senses.

Carefully she stepped around the creature sprawled on the stone floor. She couldn't suppress a shudder at the unwelcome memory of her first encounter with a troll. The nightmarish scene of smashing porcelain sinks rushed through her mind but she forced it back and continued to the door of the chess room. 

Ron was where they had left him, still and pale, but breathing. Hermione brushed away the trickle of blood by his eye and tried to rouse him. She whispered his name and touched his shoulder. Nothing.

Giving his shoulder a firmer shake, she spoke his name out loud.

'Ron!..Come on, Ron!' Nothing.

Nearing the end of her mental reserves, Hermione reached from behind his head and managed to lift his upper body enough to drag him backwards a short distance. Being short for her age and slightly built, she was at a considerable disadvantage compared to Ron's lanky height and heavier stature. Winded, she knelt , supporting his head and shoulders on her lap. 

Feeling frustrated and panicky at the thought of getting Ron out of there and getting the long distance to the owlery to send word to Dumbledore, she pushed her feelings into physical motion. Once again, she lifted Ron's upper body and started to drag him toward the door to the room of flying keys.

She hadn't taken more than three steps backward when the door flew open to admit Dumbledore, with Professor McGonagall behind him. Surprised, Hermione staggered under Ron's weight and clumsily lowered him to the floor, kneeling by his head.

'Harry?' Professor Dumbledore demanded, his eyes blazing.

'He went through the black fire..' Hermione's voice trailed off as he strode by her, his magical aura almost tangible in its intensity.

The giant chess pieces were starting to move; to block the wizard's progress but with a wave of his wand they crumbled into pieces while Dumbledore never broke his purposeful stride toward the door. 

'Miss Granger.' Professor McGonagall was waving her wand over Ron's prone form,'What happened to Mr. Weasley.'

Briskly, the professor helped Hermione stand and, as Hermione haltingly described how the white queen had struck Ron round the head, transformed a handkerchief into a stretcher. 

Standing back, Hermione watched as the older witch carefully levitated Ron onto the stretcher. Intent on being able to help if called upon, Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand descended onto her shoulder.

Turning, she jerked her eyes up to the black gaze of Professor Snape.

'But..you..how..' Hermione couldn't put into words the idea that she and her friends thought Snape was the one after the stone.

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly and his gaze sharpened. If possible, she thought she saw a glint of disappointment in his eyes.

'Are you injured, Miss Granger?' Snape inquired quietly, removing his hand from her shoulder.

'No, I -' before Hermione could finish her answer, a fierce gust of cold air pushed through the chamber as though someone had opened a door to the arctic.

Severus immediately pulled Hermione to him, turning her face to his midsection as he raised his wand. Frightened, Hermione buried her face in his robe. An eerie, inhuman hiss passed through the room with the wind, leaving a lingering foul scent in its wake. 

Minerva and Severus stood still, poised for battle, as the air quieted. Hermione clung to Snape, feeling his heart beat steadily above her head.

Finally, Snape cleared his throat as Professor McGonagall queried,

'What, in Merlin's name, was that?'

Hermione lifted her face from the scratchy wool of Severus' robe. He removed his hand from her head and stepped back.

"I'm not certain. I will follow Albus."He kept his wand in his hand and turned to move toward the next chamber.

Just then, the door to the troll room opened and Dumbledore stepped through, levitating Harry behind him.

'Oh, Albus!' 

Minerva, who had lowered Ron to the floor, rushed toward them.

The white bearded wizard held up a hand. 'He will be fine, Minerva. He is sleeping. Shaken and exhausted, but he will be fine.'

Breathing an audible sigh of relief, McGonagall returned to Ron, brandishing her wand to levitate his stretcher.

'Headmaster?' Snape's deep voice was urgent.

Dumbledore nodded,'Yes, Severus, it was Quirrell. And Voldemort.'

If possible, Snape's face paled. 

'Quirrell is dead, and Voldemort...it seems he has evaded us again, in his non-corporeal form.'

'The wind.'Snape confirmed, glancing down at Hermione, who was listening, wide-eyed.

'And the stone?' He turned his eyes back to the Headmaster who was watching Harry sleep, suspended at about waist level beside him.

'As you know, Severus, the stone wasn't ever in any danger. Voldemort would never have been able to retrieve it, through Quirrell, or alone. 

I have it now, in my possession, and will be contacting Nicholas once we get Mr Potter and Mr. Weasley to the Infirmary.'

'Nicholas Flamel?' Hermione blurted before she could stop herself.

Snape started and narrowed his eyes at her. Dumbledore laughed out loud.

'Of course, my dear Miss Granger, you would have figured that out. Tell me, were you with Harry when he deciphered the potions puzzle?'

'Yes, of course,'Hermione answered, somewhat confused by the change in topic.

"Did it take him very long? It was the one I would expect to be the most difficult for him.' Dumbledore sounded genuinely interested.

'Well, I, umm, no, but-'

'Or should I ask, did it take you very long?' the old wizard's blue eyes were shrewd.

'Well, no it was quite quick, actually, but only because it wasn't really magic, was it? Just simple logic really.'

'Just simple logic?' Snape's voice was cold and Hermione looked up at him apprehensively.

'No offense, Professor! It's just, well, I've always been pretty good with logic..' Hermione trailed off as she quailed under Snape's scrutiny.

'Well done, Miss Granger, well done. Harry couldn't have made it this far without help from his friends. 

That said, it is rather unfortunate that he came to be here in the first place. ' Dumbledore peered at her over his glasses.

'Although there was never any real risk to the stone, there was dire risk to Mr Potter himself. His magic has been severely drained and I'm afraid Voldemort will recognize him as a threat from now on.'

Hermione stared at him, appalled. To think that they had acted unnecessarily. And that Harry could have been...it was too horrible to even think about.

She stood still, her mind whirling, until Snape once again touched her shoulder.

'Come, Miss Granger,' Severus motioned to Hermione to follow the others.

Still operating on autopilot, the girl obediently turned toward the exit. Stepping cautiously through the rubble of the disintegrated chess pieces, she did not catch the meaningful glance shared between McGonagall and Snape.

The group made their way to the trapdoor through the room of keys, where the bright metal pieces now lay quiescent on the floor, up the sloping corridor to the devil's snare, or what remained of it. Tiny charred remnants littered the damp floor far below the square of light that denoted the trapdoor. 

Hermione looked around, barely taking anything in, as Snape, the only one who's wand wasn't busy with levitation, twitched his arm and a spiral metal stairway materialized out of the stone wall, curling upwards to the opening far above.

McGonagall and Dumbledore proceeded agilely up the metal treads, the boys floating along ahead of them.

As Hermione walked toward the stairs, she stumbled over a piece of burnt plant residue. Snape caught her arm to keep her upright. She continued on but when she tripped again, the professor abruptly lifted her around her waist and settled her against his hip as he started the long trek up to the top.

"Be still, you silly girl.'He admonished when Hermione protested.

'Hang on, lest we both fall.' This effectively stilled and silenced Hermione. The repetitive motion of climbing the stairs lulled the tired girl and she let her head rest against Snape's shoulder. 

He did smell like her father, she decided. Like a mixture of smoke, toothpaste and Imperial Leather soap. The thought of her dour wizard professor using the same muggle gentleman's soap that her father favoured amused her fatigued mind and she smiled to herself.

Her amusement was short lived as they reached the top of the stairs and passed by Fluffy. Or what used to be Fluffy: a three headed stuffed toy dog sat forlornly on the floor, dwarfed by the thick iron chain linking it to the ring on the trapdoor.

They passed through the door into the third floor corridor and Snape set Hermione down. She started after her two older professors, only to be brought up short by Snape's long fingers on her sleeve.

'I believe,' he looked down at her, his black eyes unreadable,

'That you have some explaining to do.'

Hermione's heart sank.

'My office, I think.'Snape let go of her sleeve and gave her a slight push in the direction of the lower stairwell.

She followed her professor in silence through the dimly lit corridors. Her tired mind was feebly racing, trying to come up with an adequate defense of their actions.

Before she had time to prepare herself mentally, they had arrived at Snape's office. Ushering her inside, he pointed to an upholstered chair by the fireplace rather than one of the hard chairs in front of his desk. 

'Sit'

Wordlessly, Snape waved his wand and a teapot and cups flew from a shelf onto a low table. One murmured incantation later and the teapot was full of steaming tea. Taking the seat opposite Hermione's he poured tea and passed a cup to her before sitting back himself.

Hermione, surprised by his hospitality, accepted the teacup and drank tentatively. The tea was an herbal infusion, lemony and almost bitter, with an overtone of something, fennel maybe? Hermione thought absently as she drank.

Holding her cup in her lap Hermione watched her professor as he too sipped his tea. He sighed, then seemed to notice her watching, and straightened.

'Now then, Miss Granger, suppose you tell me exactly how you and your little friends managed to get into the forbidden chambers, and why." 

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it. She took a deep breath and began.

After explaining to the best of her ability about telling Professor McGonagall about their suspicions of the stone being in jeopardy, to the details of their journey through the various chambers, Hermione stopped and looked warily at Snape.

'We did tell an adult.' she added, aware that her voice sounded petulant.

'Indeed.' came the reply from her professor, who had yet to utter anything else.

He had sat quietly during her discourse, sipping his tea and watching her, enigmatically. 

Now it was Hermione's turn to sit and take small sips of her tea, waiting for Snape to erupt.

He didn't disappoint.

'You never thought to find another professor? Had I not seen you outside the staff lounge just a few hours previous, and retrieved Professor Flitwick for you? Do neither of us count?'

Hermione had never considered that his feelings might be hurt. But there was no way she would admit that they had thought he was the one after the stone.

'So you thought that this thief would be able to get through all the various traps set by the professors - oh don't patronize me by offering any further explanations, Miss Granger, it was Hagrid who searched me out to tell me of his concern for you three. He told me what he had let slip to you.'

'And it never occurred to you that there were likely warning spells placed on these traps or tests, to alert those of us guarding the castle and the stone?'

Hermione studied her tea; she hadn't thought of that.

'And it never occurred to you that these tests weren't meant to stop the intruder, only to delay him? That the whole setup in itself was a trap, to slow down or ensnare the thief until we could get there?'

Hermione was feeling rather small; she hadn't thought of that either.

'Not once, during your foray through the chambers, did it occur to you that these tests weren't extraordinarily difficult, for an adult? - yes Miss Granger, I am implying that while bright, you are not a fully trained witch by any means.'

At this point Hermione was wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her. She couldn't look her professor in the eye. His voice was cutting.

'Nor did it occur to you that by entering the chambers you might actually be impeding our trap, placing yourselves in unquestionable danger, from the elements of the tests themselves and from the thief, presenting yourselves to be taken as hostages, bargaining chips, using you and your childish innocence to get to the stone?'

Tears were blurring Hermione's eyes, her face flushing with shame. She had thought they had done so well, only to find they had made a drastic mistake, one that could have cost them dearly.

"Not to mention using a barely legal hex on your fellow student? Mr. Longbottom was most vocal in his complaints against you when he was finally liberated from his full body bind. 

'Are you aware that your body continues to function normally while under the constraints of the hex, yet prevents you from being able to deal with the consequences? Resulting in humiliating experiences like incontinence when your bladder reaches maximum capacity? Did you think of that Miss Granger?' Snape thundered, rising to his feet.

'What will it take to get you to think before you act, Hermione?!' The use of her first name was lost on Hermione as she wept quietly into her lap.

'Look at me.' Snape commanded. The girl complied, raising her tear streaked face and looking at him with sorrowful brown eyes.

Severus swept to the corner and dragged the armless chair roughly across the floor to the centre of the room.

'If spanking you is what it takes to make you see the error of your ways and learn to think before you act, then you will be very familiar with the view from across my knee by the time you graduate from Hogwarts.'

Seating himself in the chair, he reached a long arm toward Hermione.

'To me.'

'But Professor, I'm really sorry -' Hermione couldn't believe this was happening!

'Now, Miss Granger. Do Not make me come and get you.'

Sobbing, Hermione slid from her chair and approached the scowling wizard.

When near enough, he took her arm and drew her close.

'Miss Granger. With an intellect like yours, combined with an unhealthy dose of Gryffindor curiosity and heedlessness, you will not survive your years at Hogwarts. 

'This is not your average muggle boarding school. Magic is inherently dangerous and it is imperative that the rules be adhered to here at Hogwarts.

'This foolhardy habit of rushing into situations that do not concern you and which are entirely against the rules must be overcome. Being friends with The-Boy-Who-lived will no doubt put you into abnormal situations where you need to be able to Use Your Head.'

Finished his tirade, Severus pulled Hermione over his knee and deftly pulled her trousers and knickers down to expose her bottom and thighs.

Hanging over his legs, her tears already dripping onto the floor, Hermione couldn't believe that she was getting spanked, again.

One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Yelping with each spank, Hermione unconsciously moved her right hand back to cover her bottom before Snape grabbed it with his left and pinned it to her lower back.

Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! Severus wanted to make sure drove his lecture home. The pale bottom on his lap turned pink , then red as he rhythmically spanked, his large hand covering most of the small buttocks with each resounding Smack!

Eleven! Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen! Fifteen! Hermione collapsed limply over her professor's hard thighs and gave herself over to her tears. 

Sixteen! Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty! The last series of spanks had targeted her lower bottom and thighs and Hermione gasped through her tears at the exploding pain.

Several minutes later, Hermione had some control over her tears and was able to right herself, with some help. 

Despite her weeping and the fire in her backside, she flushed as Snape pulled up her knickers and then her trousers. She straightened her jumper and wiped her face with the usual handkerchief - she did see Snape retrieve it from a pocket this time.

She took a ragged breath.

'I'm really very sorry, Professor,' Her voice was small.

'I do want to learn to think before I act...it's just...hard.'

'I know, Miss Granger.' Severus responded. Hermione looked up, startled by the kindness in his voice.

'If I thought there was no hope for you, you wouldn't be here.'

A warm feeling kindled inside Hermione, at odds with the flaming pulse of her bottom.

Snape's voice sharpened. Hermione's warm feeling dampened a little.

'To learn from this you must think about what you could have done differently. Decisions you could have made that would have changed the outcome of this incident in a positive manner.

'To that effect, I will expect an 18 inch essay on how you would enter this situation differently, should it ever reoccur. Due before the Leaving Feast. I trust you can remain out of trouble for the remaining two days of this term?

His dry tone seemed to bolster Hermione and she nodded, still sniffling. All of a sudden she was overwhelmingly tired and a huge yawn overtook her face.

Snape stood and moved the chair.

'Bed, I think, is long overdue.'

He showed Hermione to the door and then proceeded to escort her to Gryffindor Tower. They walked in silence. 

Hermione contemplated that she really didn't understand Professor Snape at all. Some times he seemed downright evil, yet other times he was like a stern parent, and other times he seemed almost kind. Barely. An enigma, she decided.

At the portrait, she gave the password to the Fat Lady, and the door swung open.

Professor Snape watched as she entered and looked back over her shoulder.

'Good night Professor," she ventured.

'Good night, Miss Granger.' 

The portrait closed as he stood there for a moment. One year almost finished, six more to go he thought wearily before shaking his head and trudging to his quarters for some much needed rest.


	8. Chapter 8 Finishing Touches

1On Fire Chapter 10 Finishing Touches

Severus Snape habitually rose with the sun. It mattered little how late the hour when he finally dropped his weary body into his bed, the very moment the sun pushed itself over the horizon to chase away the night, his eyes opened.

So as usual, this morning he awakened at a few minuted after 5 am. His slitted eyes surveyed his surroundings for a few moments as the last lingering vestiges of sleep cleared from his mind.

Shower, hot. Shave, quick. Coffee, black. In that order. His morning routine was as habitual as his awakening.

Another habit of Severus Snape's, that was perhaps more well known, was his customary walk around the grounds of Hogwarts while the castle was still sleeping. He liked his solitary walk and took it regardless of the weather, unless it was terribly inclement. 

The early morning air cleared his mind and allowed his thoughts to organize for the day. He was a man who needed an outlet for his excess physical energy, so his morning constitutional and his endless trek through kilometres of twisted Hogwarts corridors, monitoring student activity, were his means of blowing off physical steam. 

The frequent opportunities presented for deduction of house points were a bonus for his emotional well-being.

Today, the sun was especially warm on his face and the songs of the birds were especially sweet. This was the last full day of students at Hogwarts for this school year. 

Tonight was the annual Leaving Feast and tomorrow the students would depart for their own homes for two glorious months. Of course, the graduating students would return in one week for their commencement ceremonies. But that was tolerable.

Despite the happy feelings that the end of the year invariably brought to Severus, this morning he felt disgruntled. The events of the previous evening continued to disturb him. 

How was it that three first year students managed to get down the trapdoor and into the chambers near the hiding spot for the Philosopher's Stone? Managing to put themselves in grave danger in the process.

Severus knew that Quirrell was after the Stone. The whole faculty knew. Of course, it was supposed to be a secret. It was just a matter of when he would try to get to it. The whole protection set-up was a trap. Each of those tests were designed only to slow him down and give the others time to corner him down there.

None of them had suspected that he was actually possessed by Voldemort. 

Voldemort. The very thought made him shudder. He was not a man who feared much. But he had personal experience with the Evil that was Voldemort. And last night the child that had defied him a decade ago , met him again and survived. Granted, Voldemort was not the threat he was ten years ago, not having a body of his own. But he was still a threat and Potter could have been killed. Or terribly wounded. 

And what of the precious prophesy then?

Snape strode more briskly around the inner perimeter of the Forbidden Forest, his mind racing.

Albus knew the Potter boy and his little friends were up to something. That they would be trying to find out all they could about the mystery on the Third Floor.

But would he listen to Severus' concerns? His complaint that a closer watch was needed on the Terrible Trio? Those three were going to give him more white hairs than the Weasley twins. 

At least the twins' mischief was just that, pranks and practical jokes. But the trouble that Potter, Granger and the youngest Weasley boy got into was of a different nature. Much more dangerous. First a troll, then an illegal dragon, and finally life threatening situations, meant for an experienced wizard to find challenging.

At least he had been able to provide Miss Granger with some consequences. 

That girl, probably the brightest witch to set foot in Hogwarts for generations, was hellbent on self-destruction. And who knew how many others she'd end up taking down with her? A mind like that needed careful guidance, or it would end up following all sorts of wild ideas, each as potentially dangerous as the others. 

Pairing her with the spawn of James Potter and throwing in a Weasley for good measure were ingredients for disaster. He was incredulous that Minerva would have brushed them off, yesterday. Did she have no clue what they were likely to do?

All the same, it was unfair that only one of the trio had been punished for the actions of the three. Miss Granger could hardly be held responsible for the foolishness of her partners-in-crime.

He would have to speak to Minerva about that as well. Suffering their injuries was deserved, in his mind, but it was not punishment for their actions. He had personal experience with Gryffindor students not being adequately punished for their stunts. He was not about to stand by and let it happen in this generation. Not if he could help it.

By the time he had made his rounds and returned to his quarters, Severus was beyond feeling disgruntled, or irritated, even. He was well on his way to being furious. In a quietly determined, Slytherin sort of way. 

Deciding it would be better to take breakfast alone rather than risk encountering McGonagall in the Great Hall, and starting his intended conversation in an inappropriate place, he rang for a house elf and ordered his morning meal to be sent to his study. 

Having enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in front of the fire in his office, Severus was preparing to leave, to seek out Minerva, when there came a knock on his door.

The wards glowed white, briefly, signifying neither professor or student, and Severus' curiosity was piqued. He was further surprised to find Molly Weasley standing in the corridor.

'Might I have a moment of your time, Professor Snape?' Molly appeared complacent, unruffled, but businesslike.

'Mrs. Weasley,' Severus stood back so the witch could enter.

'To what do I owe this unexpected visit?'

Molly stepped into the office and then took the chair Severus indicated, near the fireplace. He sat in the one opposite, relaxed, but wary.

'I do realize it's early for me to be knocking on your door, Professor, but I feel the need to ask another favour of you. 

'I've just come from the Infirmary, having flooed in to check up on my youngest son. He will be fine, thank Merlin, but this latest stunt has made something clear to us.'

Snape tilted his head, encouraging her to continue.

'We have been much obliged, Arthur and I, since you agreed to oversee Fred and George during their time at Hogwarts. 

'Merlin knows, they've been much better behaved this past year, having to be accountable to you while here at school. We very much appreciate the time and effort you've put into caring for our sons. 

'I tell you, it's been easy on my mind, knowing you're taking them to task when they act out. It's been a rest for my hand, too.' the matronly witch added, dryly.

Severus allowed a small smirk to curve the corner of his mouth, but remained silent.

'I would like to ask you to add Ronald into your care. We would like to give you the authority to discipline Ronald as you do the twins. 

'It seems he is developing this poor habit of getting in over his head before he thinks things through; very much a Gryffindor.'

Severus's smirk increased and a small snort escaped. Molly smiled.

'Will you look out for Ron, Severus? He is well aware that these actions at home would warrant a spanking, but away from home he seems unable to act responsibly. 

'First the troll, then the whole dragon escapade, in regard to which we sent a very serious letter to him, outlining specific consequences if this sort of thing were to happen again. Charlie was appalled that Ron would be handling a dragon and wrote to us straight away.

'And now to have him involved in some kind of harebrained life threatening scheme to rescue the Philosopher's Stone.

He needs to be held accountable for his actions, the same as Fred and George. As much as I hate to admit it, a detention is not much of a deterrent for my sons. 

'Will you take Ronald in hand when he needs it?' Molly sat back in her chair and gazed at Severus, her brown eyes serious.

The dark haired wizard nodded.

'Yes, I can honour your request. It is, after all, my responsibility as a professor of this school, to do all I can to promote accountability in my students.

'We do have the same goal, in the long run.' Snape shifted in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

'We both want students to leave Hogwarts and enter the wizarding world as responsible young adults, capable of making appropriate life decisions.'

'Yes. Thank you, Severus. You know Arthur would be here with me to speak to you if he could. We are of one accord in this.'

Picking up her handbag, Molly stood and extended her hand to Snape.

He rose from his chair and shook her hand solemnly, looking down at her from his considerable height.

'Now, if only Harry's relatives would accord you the same licence with him. He also seems to need some extra guidance, poor dear.' Molly sighed, and moved briskly to the door.

'That, I'm afraid, is another story.'Severus walked with her to the door and opened it for her.

'Good day, Mrs. Weasley.'

'Good day to you, Professor Snape.'Molly smiled and started off down the corridor, her stride purposeful and quick.

In his office, Severus closed the door and stood there for a moment. Obviously, Minerva had contacted the Weasleys in regard to Ronald's injuries sustained from the enchanted chess set. 

He wondered, with a slight smile, just what the extent of Molly Weasley's check up with her son entailed. Perhaps a quick visit to the Infirmary was in order, on his way to find McGonagall.

Ronald Weasley sat up in bed, picking at his breakfast sausage. The infirmary was quiet as he and Harry were the only patients. Harry was still sleeping, cordoned off from the main ward, the drapes pulled around his bed.

Professor McGonagall had said that Harry would make a full recovery. He just needed sleep to replenish his magical core.

Professor McGonagall had also said that she would be contacting Ron's parents in regard to the injury he sustained last night. Just a bump on the head, Ron thought crossly, and now she had to drag Mum and Dad into it.

He knew his parents would be upset with him. After getting bitten by the dragon, Ron had received a letter from his mother, explaining in explicit detail just what would happen if he so much as put one foot out of line before the end of term.

The question was, would his parents wait until he got home on the train tomorrow, or would one of them come up to Hogwarts to discipline him today, like his Mum had said in her letter.

And if one was to come, which would be better? 

Ron was appropriately wary of his mother when she got cross and wound up. She could tear a strip off her children with words alone, before she smacked the daylights out of their rear end. But her spankings were over quickly and then there were hugs all around amid tearful promises to do better.

His father on the other hand, while slow to pick up steam, was a forbidding presence when pushed to the point of having to punish his children. His disappointed lectures were agonizing, and when he did decide to spank, his offspring came away very well punished. 

Ron shuddered. Either way, either parent, it wasn't going to be pretty. He poked some more at his sausages, his appetite gone.

When the Infirmary door opened with a squeak, Ron jumped, nearly upsetting his breakfast tray. But it was Hermione who poked her head in , looking about cautiously.

'How are you? Is Harry awake? I saw Professor McGonagall on the way here, and she said you both would be fine, but Harry needed to sleep.'

Hermione paused to draw breath and frowned as she came closer and saw that Ron wasn't eating his breakfast with his usual gusto.

'What's wrong? Does your head hurt? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?' 

Ron sighed. 'My head's fine. It was just a scratch. I'm just, well, I reckon I'll be in pretty big trouble when I get home.'

Hoisting herself up on the bed by Ron's feet, Hermione looked at him.

'Professor McGonagall said she had contacted your parents. I should think they'd be happy you're alive.'

'Yeah. They'll be happy. So they can kill me themselves.' Ron shoved his breakfast tray aside.

'Remember after Norbert, when I got that owl from my parents that I wouldn't show Fred and George? '

Hermione nodded, her eyes intent.

'Well, Mum was pretty clear on what I could expect if I got in any more trouble at school.'

'So you're worried about going home then.' Hermione concluded.

'I'm more worried they might come up here.' His voice glum, Ron picked at his blanket.

'Well, better your parents than Professor Snape.' Hermione stated, matter of fact.

Ron looked up at her and his gaze sharpened. 

'Was he there last night? Did he know we thought it was him after the Stone?'

'Yes, and no' Hermione sighed,

'He was awfully cross that we'd done something so dangerous - 

'Voldemort or Quirrell could have killed Harry! Or us, and the Stone wasn't in any danger anyway, what with all the traps and provisions the professors had made...'

'There's more isn't there.' Ron experienced a rare moment of intuition.

'Well, you can guess what happened when we got back upstairs, and you and Harry were carted off to the Infirmary. 

'Snape needed somebody to rant at, and stuff.' 

Her voice trembled a little in remembrance.

'Did he, you know?' Ron gestured with his hand.

'What do you think, Ronald? That we shared tea and crumpets and he patted me on the head?' Hermione retorted, embarrassed. 

'Yes, he did. And yes, it was awful. And yes, I can still feel it today, but I'll live.'

'I guess I'd take my parents over Snape any day.' Ron's blue eyes were sympathetic in his freckled face.

'At least they love me. You can't say that about the Greasy Git.' He seemed cheered by his statement.

'No, Snape certainly doesn't love us,'Hermione agreed,

'But he did seem like he cared, at least a little bit. His lecture included the bits about responsibility and the like. He's certainly not nice, but he does seem to care, in his own way.

Ron raised his eyebrows, incredulous.

'Don't be daft, Hermione. He'll use any chance he can get to be nasty. You ask Fred and George, if you want proof. He's a great black, greasy Slytherin-'

Anything Ron had been about to add was cut off when the Infirmary door opened and in marched Molly Weasley.

Closing the door smartly behind her, she turned and advanced on her youngest son.

'Ronald Weasley! What did I tell you about getting into any further trouble? 

'You, young man, better have a good explanation for this!'

'Hermione, dear, lovely to see you. Do be a good girl and give Ron and I a few minutes? I need to speak to him privately.' She smiled kindly in Hermione's direction, never taking her eyes off her wayward son.

Hermione was already off the bed and with a startled nod at Mrs. Weasley, sped out of the Infirmary, giving Ron a wide-eyed look of sympathy.

The door closed behind the bushy haired girl with a soft click.

Molly stood with her arms crossed and frowned at Ron, who was worrying the bedspread into little pleats.

'What do you have to say for yourself?' His mother's voice was crisp and annoyed.

'Do you have Any Idea how much danger you were in last night?'

'Did I not make myself Perfectly Clear what you could expect from me if you were to put One Foot out of line? Ronald?'

'Yes, Mum,' Ron's voice was low, his shoulders slumped.

'Your Father and I discussed what would be best for you, after we received a middle of the night floo call from Professor McGonagall.'

'We decided that we would rather not wait until you got home to discipline you for this brainless scheme.'

'So as soon as I got Ginny settled with Mrs Diggory, who agreed to keep her for the morning, I flooed to Hogsmeade and came straight up here.

'And don't give me that look, young man! You should be thankful it's me that's here and not your father. If he hadn't had an important meeting at the Ministry this morning, he'd be here himself!.'

Ron swallowed, but said nothing.

His mother pulled her wand from her purse and quickly drew the curtains closed around his bedside area. Then she competently cast a privacy charm and pulled the chair out from beside Ron's bed.

Removing her traveling cloak, she placed it and her large knitted handbag on the foot of the bed. She sat in the chair and smoothed her skirt around her legs.

'Up, Ronald!' Molly beckoned to the trembling boy on the bed.

'Let's be quick about this.'

Ron complied, sliding out of bed and inching toward his mother. She immediately took his arm and guided him across her ample lap. Not missing a beat, she had his pajama bottoms and pants to his knees before Ron could take a breath.

'Mum!'

'Don't you 'Mum' me, mister. I told you that you would find yourself over my knee, bare bottom, the very next time you acted out. If you choose to act like an irresponsible child, young man, then you will be treated as one!'

With no further ado, Molly cracked her hand down onto Ron's pale bottom.

'Ouch!' Ron was always surprised at the strength of his mother's arm. Smart spanks rained down over his backside, each contributing to the building sting.

By the tenth smack, Ron was wiggling and kicking his legs.

"Be! Still!" His mother landed two sharp spanks to his thighs and he settled immediately with a gasped,"aah"

Ten more brisk smacks brought Ron to tears, his breath hitching.

Five more on top of that, placed directly at the base of his bottom cheeks had him sobbing over his mother's lap.

The last six were the worst. His mother accentuated each of her words with a mighty slap to the spot where his bottom met his legs, ensuring that he would feel the effects of this spanking for at least the rest of the day.

'You! Must! Stay! Out! Of! Trouble!'

The spanking over, Ron hung over his mother's lap, wailing like the little boy he was. Molly pulled up his pants and pajama bottoms and patted his back. After a few moments, she helped him rise, then folded him into her arms on her lap, passing him her handkerchief.

Ron basked in the comfort of his mother's arms, wiping his face and blowing his nose, until he remembered that he was eleven, and too old to sit on his mother's lap, after all.

Molly smiled softly to herself as Ron pulled himself from her lap, retreating manfully to his former spot on the bed where he sat gingerly on the coverlet. 

It was rare that her youngest son allowed her to cuddle him, so she enjoyed it while it lasted. Too bad it was only after being punished that he regressed enough to be her little boy again for a few minutes.

'I hope this has taught you your lesson, Ronald.' Molly's voice was firm, but kind.

'I would hope that we needn't have a repeat of this scenario any time soon.'

Ron shook his head vigorously.'No! I'll be good, I promise.'

'Piecrust promises, Ronald: easily made; easily broken.' Molly chided him, gently.

She stood, replaced the chair and gathered her cloak and purse. Pausing after she drew the curtains back and cancelled the privacy charm, she placed her hand on Ron's shoulder and gave a quick squeeze.

'Have a good trip home on the train tomorrow, Love. Daddy and I will be waiting for you at King's Cross.'

Ron watched as his mum marched to the door, turning as she grasped the brass handle.

'Be good.' 

Ron nodded and she disappeared out into the corridor.

Definitely better than Snape, Ron figured, as he burrowed back under his covers, turning onto his side and closing his eyes, the sting in his hindquarters a buzzing reminder of his mother's attention.

Having passed through the Infirmary on his way upstairs, Snape pursed his lips as he strode toward the staff lounge. The image of Ron Weasley's flushed and tear stained little face was fresh in his mind. 

Obviously Molly Weasley had been thorough in her interview with her son. She'd certainly had practice. 

Charlie and Bill had been mischievous enough, and then when you considered the twins...Severus expected that even Percy, the "good Weasley boy" had experienced his mother's wrath at some point in his life. 

Severus was relieved that the Weasley matriarch had come to Hogwarts to deal with her youngest son personally. It made one less student for him to argue about with Minerva.

Striding into the staff room, Severus noted that, as usual, Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall were congregated around the tea set, sharing some humourous anecdote.

They looked up, collectively, as Snape entered and came to attention in front of them, his stance imposing and somewhat defensive. 

Not intimidated in the least, the small group waited expectantly for him to share what was bothering him. Minerva had a pretty good idea what was coming and had already formulated her response.

'What do you intend to do about Potter, Minerva?' Severus' deep voice was demanding.

Not quite the opening she was expecting, Minerva looked up at him impassively.

'What about Mr Potter, Severus?'

'How do you intend to discipline him for his actions of late, or do you intend to discipline him at all?' 

Snape picked up a china cup from the table and ran a finger over the raised floral pattern on the side. His eyes flicked to McGonagall and back to the cup.

'I would think, Severus, that coming face to face with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, participating in a life and death confrontation with a professor - resulting in said professor's death, and having his magical core severely drained would be punishment enough, don't you?' Her voice was dry and a tad sharp.

Severus delicately replaced the cup on the table. He turned to Minerva, his eyes fierce.

'No, Minerva, I don't.' He paced to the fireplace and turned.

'What you have described were the natural outcomes of a situation Potter heedlessly placed himself in. Those were results, not a punishment. There is no accountability there.'

Severus crossed his arms and waited. Flitwick and Sprout looked from him to Minerva, expectantly.

'Severus.' Minerva spoke slowly, as if to a particularly dense child,

'I'm certain Harry will learn from this experience, and feels enough remorse for his actions without further consequences.'

'Remorse?' Severus snorted and moved to stand in front of the low tea table.

'You know very well Albus will be down there when the boy wakes, commending him for his bravery and offering him lemon drops. Remorse will not enter his empty little head.

'What will stop him the next time he decides to do something so outrageously against the rules? Because you well know, Minerva, there Will be a next time!'

Severus lifted his hands to express his point. 

'Last night, I took Miss Granger to task for her part in their little adventure, and you are, no doubt, aware that Molly Weasley has delivered a sound thrashing to her son in the Infirmary.

'Do you think Potter is above being held accountable for taking part in a scheme that could have taken his life? What will it be the next time? Why should he escape punishment when his friends have not?

'Can you not see the pattern that is developing here, Minerva? You cannot continue to disregard their schemes as harmless childish ideas. You have seen the result of not taking them seriously. 

'What will prevent Harry from jumping headfirst into the next brainless idea that is presented to him? How can we keep him safe if he is allowed to run wild with no accountability for his actions?' Snape finished with a huff, his voice echoing in the silent room.

McGonagall sat quietly in her chair, digesting what Severus had said. 

Sprout and Flitwick watched with interest.

'Perhaps I have judged the situation poorly, Severus,' Minerva began, her voice thoughtful.

'You've presented some very valid points. It would be unfair for Harry to go unpunished while his friends have both been disciplined severely - because I have no doubt that Miss Granger found herself across your knee last night and when I spoke with Molly Weasley she was quite vocal with her intent in regard to Ronald.

'If you think it would be in Harry's best interests for him to receive a spanking as a result of his actions, Severus, then I will not stand in your way.

'I do make one stipulation: ' Minerva held up one finger.

'You must be certain that Harry understands why he is being punished, and what you intend for him to learn from this.

'It is important that he realize you are not just using this as an opportunity to be "evil", Severus.' 

Snape rolled his eyes.

'I will not coddle the boy, Minerva. I reserve the right to be circumspect about my reasons for wanting to hold him accountable, but I guarantee you he will know why he is being punished. 

'He is free to believe I am evil if he so wishes.' Severus smirked.

Later that afternoon, Harry sat in the Infirmary, waiting impatiently for Madam Pomfrey to dismiss him from her care. The Leaving Feast was this evening and he wanted to spend time with his friends in the common room first. Earlier, Hermione had brought him some clothes so now he was out of his pajamas. He sat on his bed, swinging his feet and watching the clock.

His conversation with Dumbledore had answered some questions and his discussion with Ron and Hermione had been illuminating as well. He couldn't believe that the three of them had been so wrong about things. 

Professor McGonagall had been right. The Stone had been too well protected to steal. And Snape had been looking out for him, and protecting the Stone rather than trying to steal it. That boggled his mind.

He was glad he'd been asleep when Mrs. Weasley had visited. Ron hadn't said much, but his obvious discomfort had left no doubt in Harry's mind that he had been spanked. Soundly.

Hermione hadn't mentioned anything outright and she didn't seem to have a sore bottom, but what she _hadn't_ said about her late night discussion with Snape had been telling. And Snape had spanked before.

Harry was glad he'd been asleep last night too.

Professor Dumbledore hadn't said anything about punishment to Harry. Neither had Professor McGonagall when she had visited after Ron and Hermione.

Maybe they considered his experience with Voldemort and Quirrell punishment enough. Harry couldn't help but feel a little confused by the fact that none of the adults had brought up the fact that he shouldn't have been down in the chamber to begin with. 

He shuddered when he thought about how he could have inadvertently helped Voldmort get to the Stone. What if Dumbledore hadn't got there in time? Could the spirit form of Voldemort have taken the stone once Quirrell was dead?

Harry's mind flitted from one thought to another. Why would Dumbledore think he should have the chance to confront Voldemort when he was still a boy? Why wasn't he angry with him for attempting something so dangerous when there was a definite possibility that Harry might have been killed?

These questions chased each other around Harry's mind until he was tired of thinking about them. 

He was just about to get off the bed and find Madam Pomfrey when Snape strode into the room, his robes billowing behind him and his trademark scowl on his face.

'Where do you think you are going, Potter?' Snape's deep voice irritated Harry.

'Nowhere,' He replied, testily. 

Snape stopped in front of Harry's bed and raised an eyebrow. '-Sir.' Harry added, quickly, thinking Snape seemed a little more intense than usual, even for him. Prat.

'You seem to have recovered from your little escapade.'His professor sneered, his black eyes looking Harry up and down, appraisingly.

Harry remained on his bed, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry up, so he could get out of here, away from the Great Black Bat of the Dungeons.

As if anticipating his thoughts, Snape motioned with a long arm toward Pomfrey's office.

'We need to have a discussion, Mr. Potter. Madam Pomfrey has kindly allowed me the use of her office, for convenience.'

_Why_, thought Harry. _It's not like I have anything to say to you_.

He caught Snape's eye and prevaricated.

'I'm not really feeling that well, Professor..' He trailed off as he realized Snape wasn't buying it.

' I was unaware that I had given you a choice, Mr. Potter.' Snape moved closer.

'If you are feeling too poorly to walk, I suppose I could carry you.'

Harry practically leaped off the far side of the bed. There was no way he would allow Snape to touch him voluntarily.

'No?' the professor's black eyes glinted. 'This way then.' 

Harry warily followed Snape into Madam Pomfey's spacious office. The tall wizard closed the door and leaned casually upon the corner of the large desk. He waved Harry to one of the chairs in front of him.

'So. Mr. Potter.' Snape crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose.

'What have you learned from this latest stunt?'

Harry stared at the man defensively. 'I don't know what you mean, Sir.'

'You have broken yet more of rules of Hogwarts, this time putting yourself and your little friends in life threatening danger, not to mention sustaining serious injury as a result. What do you have to say for yourself?'

'Professor Dumbledore -' Harry began, only to be cut off.

'Professor Dumbledore has his own agenda, Mr. Potter.' Snape stood up straight and loomed over Harry.

'You might not be so lucky next time, Potter. You might not have someone to save you from your idiotic schemes.

'I want to know that you will think twice before undertaking such a harebrained, foolhardy venture again.

'And I am prepared to provide you with unpleasant consequences when you break the rules. Did our last discussion about making responsible choices mean nothing to you, Mr. Potter?

Harry shifted in his seat, uncertain whether an answer was required.

'Mr. Potter." Snape's voice was quiet, deadly.

'No Sir. I mean, Yes Sir!' Harry was flustered. Although he knew, deep in his heart that it was right for someone to be taking him to task for his actions, he didn't want it to be Snape!

'I think a remedial lesson is in order, Mr Potter. A reminder, of what you can expect when you overstep your boundaries and embark in foolish escapades.'

'No, Sir! I remember!' Harry's treble voice rose in panic.

'Come now, Mr. Potter, let us employ a measure of that legendary Gryffindor courage' 

Snape pulled out the chair beside Harry and sat down abruptly. Their knees were almost touching.

As if in slow motion, Harry watched as Snape's hand reached out and pulled him forward, off his chair and toward the older wizard.

_NO, wait_, Harry's inner voice was shouting but outwardly he made no sound.

Snape let go of Harry's arm, only to reach down, unfasten his trousers and jerk them to his knees. When his pants followed, Harry gasped and tried to back away.

Snape's large hands caught him and yanked him, unceremoniously, over his lap. Pushing up the boy's shirttail and pinning the small right hand against the white fabric, Snape tucked Harry close to his body and lifted his right hand.

Smack! Snape's broad palm connected with the tender flesh of Harry's bottom.

This can't be happening! Harry thought wildly, as the pain flared.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Harry's body jerked with the force of the blows and his eyes burned with tears.

'You will think before you act!' Snape's deep voice surprised Harry.

'You will cease this habit of acting irresponsibly!'

'You will not take risks or put yourself in dangerous situations!'

Each statement was accompanied by a series of hard smacks that made Harry cry out and writhe under the punishing hand. 

Harry was uncertain if Snape had said any more after that point as all he could hear were his cries and ragged breaths amid the sharp sounds of a hard hand striking soft flesh.

After what seemed to be an eternity for Harry, but was likely only a matter of a minute as Snape rarely issued more than twenty smacks, the spanking stopped and Harry was left to cry it out over Severus' knee.

Regaining his senses, Harry struggled to his feet, the pain in his bottom too intense for him to be embarrassed as Snape pulled up his pants and trousers and redid the fly and snap.

'I'm sorry,' Harry sobbed, 'I'm sorry I did something so dangerous.' His little voice wobbled and cracked. 

The mental trauma of the previous night resurged and Harry sobbed out his fear, turning into the arms of the one person who seemed to care enough to discipline him for his mistakes.

Taken aback, Severus reluctantly put an arm around the thin back, seeming to realize that Harry needed to release his pent up emotion.

Finally, spent, Harry lifted his head from Snape's shoulder, where his tears had made a large wet blotch on the black wool. Unable to meet his professor's eyes, he scrubbed at his face with his sleeve.

He started when Snape's hand tipped his chin up and used a conjured damp flannel to wipe Harry's face awkwardly. The professor's eyes were unreadable as they looked into Harry's.

'I believe you Mr. Potter.' Professor Snape said quietly.

'And I hope your remorse, coupled with the sting in your bottom, will prevent you from such foolhardy action in the future.'

Harry nodded, jerkily, still catching his breath. The professor waited, silently, until the boy had composed himself.

'Remember this, Mr. Potter. Your year at Hogwarts may be finished, but I will be here in September when you return. And I will be watching you.'

Harry sighed, but felt oddly comforted by the words. If there was one honourable thing that he knew first hand about Severus Snape, it was that he kept his word. But he was still a Git.

Snape stood and ushered Harry to the door of the office.

'I believe Madam Pomfrey wished for me to grant you release from the Infirmary. Something about attending the Leaving Feast?'

Snape smiled a small evil smile. 'You wouldn't want to miss seeing Slytherin receive the House Cup.'

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he stiffly followed his professor out of the sterile environment of the Infirmary. The House Cup wasn't the important thing. Harry had made it through his first year at Hogwarts, and, best of all, he'd be able to return in September.


End file.
